Secrets And Lies
by NRC
Summary: He was an assassin. She was a girl with a broken heart. Non-Magical.
1. Introduction

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

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**Prologue**

An alarm clock pierced the morning calm. It beeped shrilly, announcing to the platinum blonde boy to whom it belonged that it was five in the morning, and he should be up.

The boy rolled over and groaned, muttering curses as he pushed down on the snooze button.

Seconds later, the door to his room banged open, and that woke him up more efficiently than his alarm clock. His curses more audible as he sat up on the bed, he squinted against the harsh white light that his friend had switched on.

"Christ, man," the dark-haired boy muttered. "You _do_ know that he'll be on your arse if you don't get up now."

The platinum blonde boy glared at his friend. If this wasn't one of his best friends talking, he would immediately have shot him down for even daring to talk to him in that tone that early in the morning.

"Bite me," the blonde scathingly replied, but nevertheless he stood up and began to tidy his bed.

His friend chuckled as he turned around and headed back out, his morning's mission accomplished.

"Shut up," was the blonde's reply.

The dark boy's chuckle became louder, and evolved into a full-blown laugh as the book the blonde had thrown hit the door he had just closed behind him. Shaking his head at his friend's antics, he trudged down the tiled corridor, and let himself into the cafeteria.

He knew the reason why his friend was extra grumpy today. He was grumpy about it, too.

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**AN: **This story is all human (no magic is used). Hogwarts School is not of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everything happens in a "human version", just imagine it being blown up bigger than proportion. There are no Deathly Hallows, and Voldemort dies only once. His Horcruxes are... different (explanation later on in the story). I have a feeling I'm going to get quite a lot of questions regarding how the story has been "humanized", but humour me.

Note: This story is set after the 7th Book, but just imagine everything happening non-magically. Eg. Draco Malfoy did attempt to kill Dumbledore, but not with a wand. Stuff like that.

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	2. Invisible Ring

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter One – Invisible Ring**

"Have you _seen_ anything like it, Hermione?" the redheaded girl squealed as she proudly showed off a diamond engagement ring.

Hermione sighed. "No, of course not, Ginny," she replied. "As if Harry would get you something ordinary."

Ginny Weasley giggled happily as the ring caught the sunlight and made rainbows on the wall. Wrapped up in her own happiness, she didn't notice her friend's melancholia.

Don't get the wrong idea, Hermione was pleased that one of her best friends, Harry Potter, had finally summoned the courage to propose to the girl that was destined for him, but it only saddened her that the girl's brother—and Hermione's boyfriend of four years—Ron Weasley, was so oblivious to Hermione's own desire to get married.

She had begun to wonder if taking their relationship further was even on Ron's mind. They had all been through everything with each other; the Golden Trio (composing, as we all know, of Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter) had stayed strong through their six out of seven Hogwarts School years, as well as the last year, when they were hunting down the Horcruxes, the six innermost men that protected their number one enemy, Lord Voldemort, whom they had also defeated, and finally, after, when they had grown up into adults.

Their friendship had survived the tests of time and differences. Now it wasn't only friendship, it was a romantic relationship as well. Ron and Hermione began dating at the end of the year when they were hunting the Horcruxes, and they were still going strong now… but it pained Hermione that in their four years outside Hogwarts, four years after they had "officially" graduated from School, there had been many weddings, and yet, their's, one of the most expected and highly rumoured weddings (second only to that of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's) wasn't even in the planning stages.

Hermione's mind cast back to the various marriages that had happened. The very first was Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's; that was at the beginning of their final year. Then came Percy Weasley's to his school girlfriend Penelope Clearwater, which took place at the beginning of the First Liberated Year. George and Fred Weasley had followed, having a double wedding to Padma and Parvati Patil respectively, sometime around July of that year.

Those were the larger weddings. There were some other smaller ones, like Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbot's, Michael Corner and Cho Chang's (Harry had been Best Man), and Anthony Goldstein and Susan Bones'.

And then now… Ginny was going to marry Harry in two months, and the whole place had been buzzing. Their wedding became talk of the year, and set people wondering why Hermione and Ron were taking their time.

Hermione winced.

She had also been invited to other weddings after Ginny and Harry's. Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet, Cormac MacLaggen and Katie Bell (Hermione had been invited to be Maid of Honour), Terry Boot and Luna Lovegood, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson, and (unbelievably) Viktor Krum and a Bulgarian girl.

All were, of course, after The Wedding of the year by at least six months, giving the new couple time to live down their marriage—and make sure everyone had enough money to give other weddings fair presents.

So Hermione's calendar was by no means empty of social obligations, but she wanted nothing more than to erase all of them out in preparations for her own wedding.

Sadly, that was not the plan.

Hermione sighed. At least Ron wasn't the only Weasley to still not be married in two months; Charlie had no intention of marrying at that point in time. He had convinced his mother that he wanted nothing more than to be tied down to looking after his 'wife', the _Red Heart_, an exporting ship.

Hermione grinned. Mr and Mrs Weasley were under fire from all the marriages. At least, though, they were no longer penniless, as they're children were marrying into respectable families, and were able to provide memorable weddings for those who had already married, and those who were still on their way.

But Hermione couldn't ignore the slightly worried looks that were being shot at her and Ron. Everyone had thought that they were going to be married either right before, right after, or even with, Harry and Ginny. But there hadn't even been a single whisper that wedding was in the works for them.

Hermione frowned. Was there something wrong that she was doing that was putting Ron off from asking him to marry her?

"Herm," Ginny interrupted her thoughts, finally realising that her friend wasn't in the same room as her. "Just relax. You know how Ron is; he can be such a blind bat sometimes."

"It's been four years and a dozen weddings, Gin," Hermione mumbled. "Maybe I'm doing something wrong?"

The redheaded girl sighed, before sitting down beside her friend. "Herm, if there _was_ something wrong, you wouldn't be with him now. You know how he is… he can be a right arse when something isn't going the way he wants."

Hermione laughed at that. She indeed knew of Ron's pigheadedness when things didn't go his way; it had shown itself at its finest in their last year, when they had left Hogwarts to hunt the Horcruxes.

Suddenly, she heard Ron downstairs shouting up, "Harry, get down here and let's play football; Charlie's here with a friend from Romania, and Charlie's been wanting to show off."

Hermione and Ginny stared at each other, before Hermione finally felt everything had piled up too high. She stood up.

"Gin, I'm going home. I don't think I can look at him without either crying or slapping him," she whispered.

Ginny sighed, before reaching across to her window. Her bedroom may be on the second storey of their three-storey (plus attic) house, but there was a handy tree that lent its branches to her window.

Hermione grinned her thanks, and let herself down. She had been down this way many times before. Without looking back, she snuck down into her car and drove off.

Ginny sighed again as she watched her friend drive down the street. She slammed the window shut with a murderous expression on her face, promising herself that she would talk to her moronic, idiotic older brother.

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	3. The Plan

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Two – The Plan**

"Whenever I am speaking, I expect you… to pay attention, Mr Malfoy."

Draco looked up from his doodle, straight into the eyes of his 'boss', Severus Snape. His cold black eyes bored into Draco's silver-blue ones, reminding the boy of light-less, endless tunnels.

He flinched and blinked, and said, "I apologise, sir."

Snape nodded curtly, before continuing his lecture in an oily voice. "As I was saying, Mr Malfoy, you and Mr Zabini are tasked to… _bring down_ one of the Three who have brought upon us this menace of the Liberated Years."

Draco cocked a fine, golden eyebrow. Only _one_ of the Three?

Snape caught the look, and nodded again. "Indeed, Mr Malfoy. Only one."

The dark haired boy sitting beside the blonde haired Draco Malfoy, stirred. "May I ask why, sir?"

Snape's attention snapped to him. "The agency sees it fit that she is the weakest link amongst the Three, Mr Zabini."

"But she's the smartest of them, sir," Blaise Zabini argued.

Snape's shoulders flexed, as if hiding an involuntary shrug. "It matters not. She will be your target. But none can know of our interference. This job needs to be quick, concise, and a secret. It must look as though she has not… _disappeared_, merely nothing more than an explained absence. You must acquire her trust, and when she is at her weakest, eliminate the threat."

Draco eyed Snape, contemplating, while Blaise had another question. "We heard that she has been tied, sir, so seduction is out of the question—"

"You will find, Mr Zabini," Snape interrupted loudly. "That seduction is _not_ out of the question."

Blaise shut up, and let Snape deal out the rest of his bomb.

"Ms Greengrass and Ms Parkinson will take care of the Second."

There was a hiss of outrage. Snape's eyes turned once more to the blonde.

"That is beyond the point, sir," Draco snapped back. "The Second is well into the Third, and, no offence meant, but neither Greengrass nor Parkinson has quite the talent—"

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," Snape said coldly, "For assessing Ms Greengrass and Ms Parkinson's skills. However, they need not rely on beauty alone, which you obviously find inadequate. We have several items which could befuddle the Second's mind easily enough."

Draco shared a look with Blaise. They agreed on one thing. Their boss had finally gone mad into thinking that Greengrass and Parkinson could handle seducing the Second. He'd probably run away screaming at the top of his lungs when he saw them.

"Do not be so doubting of our power, Mr Malfoy," Snape retorted, after seeing the glance. "If neither Ms Greengrass nor Ms Parkinson can accomplish it, we have one last resort, a Final Plan B."

He smirked, then continued, after seeing the boys speechless at having a Final Plan B. "You shall begin immediately. Ms Greengrass and Ms Parkinson have already begun their mission, a week to the date, and it is of perfect time now for you to begin as well."

Blaise shot one look at Draco before sullenly asking, "Do we both have to seduce her?"

Draco almost laughed. His friend was jealous in case the Third chose him? Oh, the hilarity of it all.

Even Snape's lips twitched. "You may go."

Both boys got up from the steel table, Blaise still mumbling under his breath, and Draco still smirking.

"You have to tell me now, Draco," Blaise snapped as soon as they were beyond earshot of Snape and the steel room. "Do you want the Third or not?"

The laugh that the blonde had successfully kept in during the lecture now exploded out of him. "Jealous she'll choose me?"

"I'm just wondering if it's worth trying, if you want to play your seduction cards!" his friend shot back.

Draco laughed again, as he slowed to the door of his room. "Seriously, Blaise, I don't believe I'll have to play too much. If she fell in love with someone like the Second, seducing her would be too easy."

"If you say so, Draco," Blaise replied, walking past him to his own room. "Let's just hope this one goes as planned."

"Don't worry so much, Blaise," Draco said arrogantly. "When have we ever failed?"

Blaise hissed. "She's the smartest of the Three. I bet you it'd be kinda hard."

Draco laughed as an idea crossed his mind. "Wanna bet?"

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "If I win, I get her, and if you win, you get her?"

"Really, Blaise," Draco chided. "I never knew she was your type."

Blaise's hand jumped through his dark hair. "You can't deny it yourself, Draco. She's good-looking. And smart. That's probably why we're chosen for her. Undeniable."

"You're losing your edge, Blaise. I wouldn't mind handing her off to you just to get your edge back, but I ain't backing down from a competition like this."

"Pah. Go and pack up, you bastard."

Draco laughed again as he entered his room. The first thing he did was change. He put on black pants, a black coat on top of a black turtleneck, and a black shirt underneath. He had a pair of black shin-length customised leather boots.

He then picked up a black sports bag and began packing. He didn't know how long he'd need to stay nearby. He didn't know how long it'd take for the Third to finally crumble. After all, she'd been one of the most stubborn people he'd ever met in his life.

_Never be caught weapon-less_, had been the fundamental point drilled into him.

Smirking to himself, he hid a knife in a hidden strap in each of his boots, a Glock 33 into his side holster that was hidden by his long coat, and a small Smith & Wesson pocket gun in the inner front pocket of his coat. He hid the rest of his goodies into the black sports bag, then piled more clothes on to it.

He pulled out another bag, this time a laptop briefcase, packed his laptop and papers into it, and for good measure, three cash bundles; one bundle of a hundred twenty's, one of a hundred ten's, and the last of a hundred fifty's.

He frowned at his small luggage, before pulling out another black sports bag, bigger than the first, and began to pile some of his bulkier belongings: shoes, coats, towels, boots, and a couple of books.

Satisfied, he slung the smaller of the sports bags over his shoulder, and carried the heavier of the remaining in his right hand, and the laptop briefcase in his left.

He stepped outside, locked his room, headed down the corridor and joined his friend.

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	4. Shivers Down The Spine

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Three – Shivers Down The Spine**

Hermione wheeled around.

The bleak alleyway behind her was empty, except for the stray paper tossed around in the strong wind.

Hermione shivered. She had felt someone watching her every step, and it sent shivers down her spine.

It was much too cold for comfort, she decided, as she pulled the navy coat she wore more tightly around her. It was only the middle of September, but the temperature had begun to drop already.

She wished that Ron could have picked her up from work—usually, he did, and today she thought it was no different—but he hadn't even contacted her since she left Ginny's house two days ago. Ginny had told her that Ron was staying with Charlie for the moment, until Charlie was off to Romania again on the _Red_ _Heart_ next week.

But Hermione couldn't wait until next week. She needed to talk to Ron _now_. She needed him here with her. Ron hadn't properly talked to her for almost five days, and she was beginning to feel the strain of the lack of communication.

So deep in thought Hermione was, she didn't notice the gang of drunk men in front of her, but they certainly noticed her.

"Hey, sweetie," one of them called out, and immediately, Hermione stopped in her tracks.

She looked up to find them leering at her, just over a meter away. She grimaced, then turned around and retraced her steps.

"Oh, come on, sweetheart," the same voice called. "Say you love me."

This was said to an uproar of laughter, as the five or so similarly intoxicated men laughed with the first man.

"Ew," Hermione muttered under her breath. "Disgusting…"

She could hear their footsteps now, behind her. She could hear their drunken laughter and the clink of the bottles as they waved them around.

"Come now, darling," the first man called out again. "Make love to me till the morning."

Uproarious hilarity. Hermione grimaced again, wishing that Ron or Harry or anyone she knew would appear around the corner.

But today was a Saturday, and the stores around the back alley had already closed. Hermione clenched her teeth in frustration, and pushed her legs to walk faster.

Apparently, not fast enough.

One hand clapped on her shoulder, and she jumped. The gang had reached her. She was surrounded. She could smell their intoxication, but she refused to look at their faces. She might just vomit in disgust, and figured that vomit would only be a distraction at this point, if she was to try to fight her way out.

"Come now, sweetheart," the first man leered at her. "Ain't no one gonna see you but me and my boys…"

He gripped her hips and pushed her into him. She gasped and slapped the man across the face.

It was enough for the man to let go of her, as he clutched the cheek that she hit. But when he turned to look at her, hate and lust filled his eyes.

"You gonna pay back for that, little bitch," he hissed.

Before he could so much as grab her again, a loud bang echoed in the air. Everyone ducked and put their hands over their ears. They all looked around for the source, but had to duck again as another shot rang out.

"You all leave her _now_," thundered a voice.

Out of the shadows emerged a tall man. Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth as she saw his face. She knew him, but he had been her enemy in school. He was dangerous then, he was dangerous now.

He stepped out into the alleyway with a gun in his outstretched hand and anger in his eyes. With his free hand, he gestured to Hermione, and she numbly stepped over to his side.

"Now, now, sonny boy," the first man said as he saw Hermione walking towards her saviour. "I know you've got a gun, but you gotta understand, the girl is ours, and we ain't gonna let her go too fast."

"She ain't yours," the gun-wielding boy said, as he flicked blonde hair out of his eyes. "So you ain't got no right on her. And if you don't think I can't shoot no gun, you better think again."

The first man eyed him slyly. "But you must be some kind of _young_ man, eh. I bet you couldn't shoot a gun to save yer life."

Without a single word, the blonde boy shot at a stationary bottle hanging from the limp hand of one of the drunken revellers in the back. The man screeched as the bullet shattered the bottle, and grazed his side, ripping his shirt but not damaging his skin.

"What are you willing to bet?" the boy snapped at the first man.

The first man flicked his head back from staring at the damaged shirt and the perfect shot of not damaging the skin, yet dangerous enough; one millimetre more, and there would be blood.

"Aw, let's go, Jim," one of the other men cried out. "There's gotta be more broads wondering around at this time."

The first man deliberated for a second, before holding his hands up in a surrender gesture. "Aight, I'm a-goin'."

But the blonde boy wasn't going to give up so easily. "You all stay away from her, aight?"

None of them replied as they slowly backed away. They could have passed it off as not hearing him. But he wasn't going to let them up. He shot one clear ringing bullet into the air, followed by, "DID YOU HEAR ME?"

At once, all them men put their hands up over the head and said, "Yes, for chrissakes, we ain't deaf!" before running down the alley and out of sight.

The boy turned to the girl quaking behind him. He smirked at her as he stowed the gun again into the side holster. "Well, that wasn't the way I'd planned to introduce myself again, but things happen, huh?"

Hermione was staring at him, wide-eyed. Could her nightmares turn into dreams? It seemed like her one-time (and six-year long) enemy had turned into her saviour. She couldn't believe it. This boy had put her and her friends down throughout school, and now, he was acting as though he was an actual, accepted friend of hers.

His smirk widened as he saw the incredulity and shock in her face. He stretched out a strong, pale hand.

"Draco Malfoy, at your service."

* * *

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	5. The Beginning Of The End

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Four – The Beginning Of The End**

Blaise pounded the floor of their new flat as he paced around and around, wondering what could have taken Draco so long.

He had only promised to have a look around, no interfering, and yet the blonde bastard had left over an hour ago. What was so interesting about this dreary town?

It was the same usual town, like all towns. There was a school, a supermarket, a mall, there were houses, there were alleys. What could Draco possibly looking for?

To be frank, Blaise didn't understand why the Three would be in this town. It wasn't exactly high class, as he'd been expecting the Three to be in.

Then again, the Weasleys were known for their poorness. Maybe that's why they had chosen this part of town.

Blaise smirked. It gave him some sort of power seeing and understanding the kind of dump the Weasleys lived in.

He heard the front door open, but there were no voices. Suspicious, Blaise drew out his Beretta, and held it ready by his side. He slowly walked towards the wall, and peeked out the door leading from the dining room, where he was now, into the lounge.

What he saw dropped his jaw.

Draco Malfoy was leading in a wide-eyed Hermione Granger.

Blaise felt something stirring in him. This was the reason why he had wanted to know if Draco was planning to be the one to seduce her. Hermione Granger had not lost the natural beauty from her school years.

Her soft peachy cheeks were flushed pink with the cold from outside, and her eyes were bright, even sparkling; a warm, liquid brown. Her hair had lost most of its bushiness as it had grown longer to reach just past her shoulder-blades, and her lips were up in a tentative smile.

Now, Blaise might have been like Draco back then, concentrating more on those more willing, Slytherin girls, but he had never ever missed the beauty of Hermione. He wasn't so daft as to deny her beauty, like he knew Draco did.

The fortunate thing for Blaise, though—and more unfortunate on Draco's side—was that he'd never been asked if he found Hermione Granger attractive. He would have been willing to admit it, but Draco had been asked by Jane Warrington if he did, and he had (of course) replied in the negative.

Blaise couldn't believe Hermione Granger was here, now. Was his and Draco's task going to be _that_ easy?

"Blaise?" Draco called out.

Blaise straightened up and pushed the Beretta back into its holster. Making sure it was hidden by his coat, he proceeded to walk out of the dining room.

"Hey, Draco," he said automatically, before his eyes landed on the beauty beside him. "Hello, Ms Granger."

Hermione blushed, and Blaise smirked. He was such a gentleman these days… Then he caught sight of the glare Draco was throwing at him, and he glared right back. It was their guest who interrupted their glaring contest.

"So why are you both in the area?" she asked, her eyes flicking from one boy to the next.

That thawed both boys' position. Draco folded his coat over his arm and gestured for Hermione to sit, while Blaise took her coat, hung it, then went back into the dining room for refreshments. He smirked. He'd leave all the lying to Draco.

"We, of course, heard of the wedding of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley," Draco replied in a cool tone. "We couldn't afford to miss the wedding of the century."

Blaise almost laughed out loud at the lie. This was why he had given this part of the job to Draco. Blaise didn't even know the Scarhead and Weaselette were getting married. Still controlling the smirk on his face, he went back into the lounge with a tray; on it were three tea-cups, a small plate of biscuits, and a ceramic blue teapot.

Ever being the gentleman (and because he knew Draco would never stoop so low to do such 'menial' tasks), Blaise tipped the teapot over the tea-cups, and offered one to Hermione. She blushed and accepted hers with a soft thank-you. Blaise then shoved another tea-cup under Draco's nose, with a mock smile on his face, before offering the plate of biscuits to Hermione. When she took one with another blush, smile, and thank-you, Blaise grabbed his cup and sat next to Draco.

"I'm guessing that you're going to be Maid of Honour, Ms Granger?" Blaise asked Hermione as he sipped his tea.

Hermione turned pink again. "Indeed that is correct, Mr Zabini, but please call me Hermione."

A flicker of emotion twisted Draco's face for one second, and Blaise smirked.

"And I insist you call me 'Blaise', Hermione," he replied.

Draco coughed slightly, as he could see his friend laying it on thick on the 'Seduction Greeting'. True, he was slightly jealous that Hermione had been more open to Blaise than to him, but Draco was sure he had some inkling. After all, it wasn't Blaise who had antagonised Hermione's six years at Hogwarts.

"Well, I believe I shall have to send you invites to the wedding," Hermione said softly as she took another sip of tea. "Although it _is_ the most highly anticipated wedding, as you said, of the century, Harry and Ginny still have an invite-only policy, considering that not everyone who knows them can attend their wedding."

Draco and Blaise nodded politely, both trying to conceal the churning of their stomachs. They both knew that there was no way Hermione would just invite them, just like that. There'd have to be some kind of greeting with the couple, and they weren't sure if they wanted their presence to be known by them.

"Furthermore, there is also the risk of unknown and unwanted attention," Hermione continued, now biting into her third biscuit, "From the media, from fans who might want to disrupt the wedding due to their own infatuated emotions, to dangerous factions who wish to disrupt the peace overall."

Both Draco and Blaise were thankful that Hermione had sipped her tea again, as they had both been unable to hide the small flinch at her last words. That was them: 'Dangerous factions who wish to disrupt the peace'.

Draco thought that she was still exactly the same as she was in school; the same know-it-all air, the same tone of speaking, the same flow of words. Hermione Granger, the Know-It-All from his school, had not changed in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Blaise was thinking that Hermione was both smart and beautiful. He had known she was the top of their classes in school, but he had never been that close to be graced by her words as she said them, and he felt more attracted to her because of it.

Hermione glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see it was already 7 o'clock. She was due at Ginny's house for dinner at 7.30, and she hadn't known how much time had passed since she met Draco in the alleyway.

"Well, I do hate to cut this short," Hermione said, standing up, "But I have a dinner appointment at half past. I shall see you both another time?"

Both boys stood up as well. "We will, Hermione," they said in unison.

Draco reached out to put Hermione's coat back on, and led her out the door again, while Blaise cleaned up the coffee table.

That was interesting.

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	6. Acquaintance

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Five – Acquaintance**

"So, Hermione," Draco said as they were driving towards the Weasleys' house with Hermione's directions. "Are you married yet?"

Of course, Draco knew the answer, but he had to pretend he wasn't stalking this girl beside him. He had to pretend he didn't know anything that had been happening to her.

To his surprise, Hermione ducked her head, blushing furiously as she kept the tears of frustration in.

"Why do you ask, Draco?" Hermione said, the tears obvious in her voice.

Draco spared her a second glance before turning back to the road. "I'd heard that you and Weasley had gotten together at the end of school. I was just wondering."

Hermione nodded a little, seeming to finally be in control of her tears again. She sniffed, before taking a deep breath, then sighing.

"No, we're not married," she replied in a small voice.

"But you're still together?"

Hermione nodded again. "Turn left here."

As she looked up at Draco's face, she saw the twitch of emotion as Draco concealed the disgust he felt that Hermione and the Weasel Bee were still together. That redheaded arse did not deserve the girl.

"How about you, Draco?" the girl asked softly. "Are you married?"

"No," he said, the tone of his voice close to laughter. "What makes you think that?"

Hermione blushed again, this time with a smile on her face. "Weren't you and Pansy—"

"Do _not_ discuss that—woman to me," Draco said harshly.

He had no wish to remember anything that had happened in his school years with that pug-faced witch. She had cheated on him with one of his friends, Theo Nott, and he had pushed her to the back of his mind. She had only come up recently, through no fault of his own, and he was irritated by it.

Draco glanced at Hermione, and saw that she was shaken by his tone. Cursing himself internally for being an insensitive prat, he gentled his tone.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he apologised, "it's just… that witch is… no words can describe what she did to me. Let's just say I haven't seen her since school, and have no wish to see her ever again."

Hermione was suddenly reminded of that strong, proud boy from her school years. This man had only changed slightly; the fact that he was apologising to her now was an impossible feat back then.

If someone had told the Hermione Granger in Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy would, in the future, apologise to her in such a gentle tone, she would have laughed defiantly into their faces.

Hermione didn't know if she preferred this Draco, or the Malfoy of Hogwarts. At least, back then, there was no question of having to be polite, of having to be civil. She wouldn't get her hopes up by being nice to Malfoy, then being shot back down by his evil smirk.

Now, she didn't know how to respond to this Draco. There were times, like in the alley, where he was the type of boy who would never have used a harsh word with her; then there were times, like in the car, just now, where he let the Malfoy of Hogwarts come back.

Hermione shook her head, and was glad when the Weasley house came into view.

"Just here, Draco," she said, pointing.

Draco obediently slowed the car, and parked as he reached the house she was pointing to. He put in on idle, and unfastened his seat belt. As Hermione was still unfastening hers, Draco swiftly got out, walked to the other side, and opened Hermione's door for her.

Blushing again, she stepped out unto the cold pavement, and her boots clicked on the concrete. Draco shut her door.

"Well, it was nice meeting you again, Draco," Hermione said, as they both stood awkwardly in the cold.

Draco stared at the girl in front of him. Was she being serious, or was she just making polite conversation?

He had forgotten Hermione Granger's beauty. In fact, she was more beautiful than she was in Hogwarts. He could see why Blaise was being such a nice bastard to her. Draco was sure that he wouldn't even have to lay it on thick to be nice and sincere to this girl.

"It was my pleasure," he replied, as his eyes stared into Hermione's.

Without meaning to, he reached out one pale hand and, using only the very tips of his fingertips, caressed Hermione's face for a single second. He felt the heat of her face as she blushed lightly at the contact, before pulling his fingers away.

_Take it slow_, he said to himself. _She won't appreciate you going fast_.

Using the same hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. Technically, the business card wasn't exactly truthful. For example the company he apparently worked for, 'Scavenger Industries', did not exist. If someone was to look it up in a directory, 'Scavenger Industries' was not there. But his phone number was real enough, and that was why he had taken it out.

Pushing it gently into Hermione's small hand, he smiled down at her. "Call me."

Hermione nodded, and just like that, the spell between them was broken. Hermione blinked a few times, and looked down at her boots as Draco walked back to the driver's seat.

He was about to climb into his car, and Hermione was halfway up the short driveway into the house, when he called out.

"Oh, and Hermione?" he said. Hermione wheeled around to face him again, a questioning look on her face. He grinned. "I'm not married."

Without giving her a chance to reply, Draco got into his seat and drove off, leaving Hermione standing on the driveway, a smile on her face and confused thoughts in her mind.

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	7. Pain And Suffering

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Six – Pain And Suffering**

Hermione knocked on the door of the Weasley home, wishing someone would open it quickly before she froze to death out here.

The door flung open, and then—

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed as she saw her best friend come in. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried about you!"

Hermione wiped her boots on the mat, took off her coat and hung it on a peg. She was still shivering, although the house was warm.

"Are you serious?" she said, her teeth chattering slightly. "I didn't get any calls."

Ginny stared at her friend. "Wh-what? I was joking, Herm. Or, exaggerating, rather. I mean, sure, everyone's been waiting for you to arrive, but… I didn't mean that we thought you were lost or something."

It was Hermione's turn to stare at her friend. "What?"

Ginny shrugged as she led Hermione to the dining room. "Ron just said that you might be a little late from a meeting. That's why we didn't call you."

Hermione gave her a confused stare. "What meeting?"

Before Ginny could answer, they had reached the dining room, and she saw Ron. Stomping over to her boyfriend, she caught his attention by pushing her face into his and glared at him, arms crossed and boot tapping.

"Hello, Mione," he said, a little guiltily. "Glad you're home."

Hermione decided to skip the pleasantries. She asked the question that she had asked Ginny earlier. "What meeting, Ronald?"

The slightly guilty expression on his face made way for a confused expression. "What do you mean, what meeting?"

"Well apparently, the reason that you didn't pick me up from work was that I had some sort of late afternoon meeting."

The guilt and confusion was still there, but they both became more pronounced. "One of your co-workers told me that you had a meeting this afternoon."

Hermione's confusion heightened. "Who?"

He eyed her shiftily, before saying, "Daphne Greengrass."

Harry, who was listening in to their conversation, interrupted. "Daphne Greengrass? _The_ Greengrass? Haughty Slytherin from Hogwarts?"

Ron shrugged as he turned to Harry. "I'd guess so. That's what she said her name was."

Hermione spoke again. "But… there is no Greengrass working with us."

Harry and Ron wheeled around to face her again. Ron had a look just short of patronising on his face, while Harry was slightly worried.

"Oh, come on, Mione," Ron said. "Don't tell me you know all of the names of your co-workers."

That brought Hermione's ire up. "In fact, I do, Ronald, because there are only five of us."

"You never know, Mione," Ron said, trying to sound wise. "I doubt that only you and your co-workers knew there was a meeting this afternoon. Some other departments must have known—"

"That's the point," Hermione argued back. "This entire week, there were no other departments with us. Everyone had an extra week of holidays, while we were sent in early because of the amount of paperwork and how long it usually took to process."

By this time, Harry's concern had aggravated, and everyone in the dining room had turned to watch the argument unfolding, while Ron was trying to come up with more ammunition on his side.

"We had no meeting today, Ron," Hermione said. "We got off at the usual time. And besides, if there was a late meeting, I would have told you, because you're supposed to pick me up in the afternoon."

Ron's guilty look came back, but he shoved it aside and replaced it with a haughty expression. "Just because we're going out, Hermione, that doesn't mean that I can't socialise whenever I want. That I have to make my day around yours—"

"And when have I ever stopped you from socialising, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione shrieked, losing all patience. "When have I ever told you to follow me around like some sort of sick puppy, telling you to do everything my way? Why do you think I didn't call you this afternoon, telling you to pick me up? I thought you'd still be with Charlie and his Romanian friend, _socialising_."

Ron stared at Hermione, flabbergasted, while Ginny eyed them both, satisfaction on her face. She, too, was sick of Hermione being downtrodden by her arse of a brother.

The other Weasleys (Charlie, Fred, George, and Mr and Mrs Weasley), Harry, and Charlie's Romanian friend watched their argument with varying expressions.

Charlie and his friend were wearing expressions that looked as though they shouldn't be watching the argument. Harry was concerned at the situation, and angry at Ron for his insensitiveness. The Twins were acting like their birthday had come one month early as they watched Ron being pounded, and Mr and Mrs Weasley were just shocked at the argument.

But, as one, all their faces became devoid of any other expression than anger as they heard Hermione's next words.

In tears, she said, "And after _four_ years of being together, you _still_ think we're just '_going out_'?"

Running out of the room, headed for the front door, Hermione left, sobbing loudly. Everyone turned to Ron, sour-faced.

First to speak was Ginny. "Congratulations, Ron," she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Glaring at her brother, she turned and sprinted in the same direction as Hermione.

"Great job, mate," Harry said, after watching his fiancé run out of the room to follow her best friend. He stalked out of the room. They heard him climbing up the stairs, before a door slammed, and they heard breaking glass from the room.

"We'd follow them and head out," George said. "But if it wasn't for—"

"The food—"

"_And_ the fact that we haven't seen mother dearest in a week—"

"We'd be out," Fred concluded, before pulling out a seat and settling himself, ready to eat. George copied him.

Charlie didn't bother saying a word to Ron, just shook his head and sat down. His Romanian friend (who looked shocked at the display of family arguments) followed suit, and Mrs Weasley snapped out of her shocked daze, and pushing Mr Weasley and Ron into a seat, began serving. One minute later, Ron stood up and ran out of the room, also heading upstairs. They heard a loud slam (all winced as the china on the shelves tinkled at the force), but none stood up.

George and Fred shared a look, before shaking their heads and saying, in mockingly sympathetic tones, "Poor ickle Ronniekins."

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	8. Disbelief

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Disbelief**

Ginny didn't say a word, just let her friend sob uncontrollably on to her shoulder. She patted her best friend consolingly, but knew that whatever she said wouldn't help this situation.

She had caught her friend outside, sitting on the curb by the lamp post, unable to continue walking as the grief inside her burst its dams and came out in tears.

When her friend paused to take a deep breath, Ginny pushed a handkerchief into Hermione's hand. But Hermione was no longer crying. In fact, there was a shrewd, calculating expression on her face.

"Herm?" Ginny asked, a little worried by the manic glint in her friend's eyes.

"There's something wrong going on, Gin," Hermione whispered, as she stared at the light of the lamp post behind Ginny.

"Herm?" Ginny asked again, for Hermione wasn't looking at her. She was staring at the lamp post as though it was her lifeline.

"I can feel it, Gin," Hermione whispered again. "I can feel it in my bones. There's something wrong."

"Herm, what do you mean?" Ginny asked, now sounding a little frightened. She had never seen her friend like this. To be honest, Ginny thought she looked a little insane. "Herm, what are you talking about?"

Ginny almost breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione wrenched her eyes from the lamp post, but Ginny recoiled. Hermione's eyes were fierce and angry, and she could see something flicker in its depths.

"Listen, Gin," Hermione whispered. "I think there's going to be a rebellion."

Rebellion? Ginny began to fear for the stability of the mind of her friend. "Rebellion? Herm, what are you talking about?"

"Don't you find it strange that Daphne Greengrass, of all people, surfaced from the past today?"

Ginny shook her head. No, she didn't find it strange. Sure, it was a little creepy that Daphne had disappeared right after Lord Voldemort died, and continued to be missing for four years after that, and only reappeared today, but… she could have gone into hiding, for all Ginny knew.

Hermione got more worked up as she saw Ginny's negative answer. "Seriously, Gin, don't you find it strange that we hadn't heard about Daphne for about four years, then all of a sudden, she's back, and R-Ron's taking her word?"

Ah, Ginny could see where she was going now. "Herm, for all you know, Ron thought that Daphne was serious. I mean, have you ever told him about the people in your department?"

Ginny was surprised to see Hermione nod her head. "I'd told him many times of them. I've even brought him to dinner parties and w-weddings of my co-workers. He should know."

"But Herm," Ginny said softly. She didn't want to sound argumentative, not now, right after Hermione and Ron's relationship just got hit by another fight. "You know how daft my brother is. He could have just thought—"

"No, Gin," Hermione interrupted. "He knew. He knew them. He talked to them, too. He asked about how work was going. They all mentioned me being in their department. I was there. Besides, these people used to be part of Harry's little gang back in school."

Hermione had a fair point, Ginny conceded. Just to make sure, though, she asked, "Who _are_ in your department, out of curiosity?"

"Neville Longbottom, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott, Cho Chang and me."

"Hmm," Ginny said. "None of them would even consider taking on Daphne Greengrass's name, if they had any reason at all."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "And they all also know Ron, so they wouldn't have lied to him about having some meeting tonight."

"And they're decent enough; they wouldn't even think about fooling you around," Ginny added.

Hermione was right. This was starting to become a little strange. Daphne Greengrass reappearing after a solid four years of absolutely no trace, then all of a sudden, Ron is in contact with her, and he trusted her word? Ron hadn't even bothered to contact Hermione to confirm, or if he was still picking her up after, and at what time. Something wasn't right.

"Trust me, Gin," Hermione said, "There was no meeting tonight. I just can't see why Ron would make something up like that."

"I trust you, Herm," Ginny replied sincerely, "You know I do. I always have. And I can't see why Ron would do something like that, either. But tell me something. You did come to dinner a little late, and I thought you'd come straight to our house after work, so where were you in the… oh, three hours where you were supposed to be in the meeting?"

Hermione began to recount the story.

"Well, like I said to Ron, I thought he'd be out with Charlie and his friend, and I didn't want to interrupt any _socialising_, and so I started to walk to your house, because Neville and Hannah left early to pick up their kid from prep, and Michael Corner picked up Cho Chang and Terry Boot, but there was no space in the back of their car because Anthony Goldstein and Susan Bones were there, and they were all headed to Terry's house to be with Luna and have some sort of Ravenclaw get-together.

"So I just walked to your house because it'd be closer, and I left my car here when I came this morning to talk with Ron, and Harry drove me to work. And then I tried taking a shortcut; you know Knockturn Alley?"

Ginny groaned. "Herm! You _know_ how dangerous that alley is."

"I know, but I just really wanted to get here and get out of the cold, and talk to Ron, it just went out of my mind."

Ginny groaned again, but gestured for Hermione to continue.

"Anyway, I met a group of drunks and they almost raped me—"

Ginny gasped and shot a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "What happened?"

"I'm getting to that, Gin," Hermione said patiently. "And then we heard a shot, and we all ducked, and then before we could look around, someone let loose another bullet, before stepping out of the shadows. He pointed the gun at them and told them to leave me alone. He then gestured to me, and shot his bullet at a bottle being held by one of the drunks. That made them scarper."

Hermione laughed softly, and Ginny asked again, "Who was it?"

Hermione didn't say a word. Instead, she fished something out of her coat pocket and held it up to Ginny.

Squinting in the poor light of the lamp post, Ginny read:

**Scavenger Industries**

**Draco Lucius Malfoy**

_**Telephone Number: xx xx xx xx**_

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	9. Dangerous Jokes

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Dangerous Jokes**

"Draco, what on earth are you doing?" Blaise asked as he entered the basement.

Draco looked up from his work. He had been busy soundproofing the room, and placing a target at one end, and a square table and four chairs at the other end.

"I'm making this The Room," Draco replied, "Capital T and R."

Blaise cocked one eyebrow. "Oh, The Room. And what are you planning for The Room?"

Draco gave him a pained look. "This'll be the target room, and whatever we need to discuss over there." He pointed at the table and chairs.

Blaise's eyebrow rose even higher. "Four chairs?"

Draco sighed, exasperated. "Blaise, how would you feel if all of a sudden someone else tags along to be part of the discussion, or if Snape appears for a report? Unlike you, I would not be bothered to find another chair for him to sit, nor give up my seat for him. It's called futuristic thinking."

"Practical," Blaise added.

"Indeed," Draco smirked.

After another five minutes, while Blaise gazed around the room, and Draco continued tinkering with something or other, Draco looked up from his work, and spoke.

"Blaise, I need to see if this room actually is soundproof, so I need you to shoot at a target while I'm upstairs, and we'll see if I can hear it."

Blaise nodded nonchalantly, grabbed a pair of earmuffs and plastic glasses, and stood in front of a target as Draco took to the stairs two steps at a time, and shut the solid oak door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, Blaise held up his Taurus Millenium Series (which was the gun Blaise had chosen to be with him today) and aimed it at the head of the target.

All of a sudden, the face of Hermione Granger swam unbidden into his mind.

Without conscious thought, he lowered down his gun, and just stared at the face of Hermione Granger, imbedded into the target.

He knew he would have to kill her when he got his chance, but he couldn't find it in himself to destroy such a beautiful face. After all, what had she ever done to them? What had she ever done to him, to Blaise Zabini? What had she done to deserve such a fate?

All she had done was liberate her people from Lord Voldemort. She had freed her people from his tyrannical rule. If anything, he should respect her for that; but no, here he was, being forced to obliterate her.

Suddenly, Blaise Zabini felt a great hate in his heart. He hated himself and the company he worked for. In that one infinitesimal moment of time, his view of the world changed.

He began hating the haters, those who sought to destroy the innocents and the saviours. He began to hate himself, because he was one of them. He couldn't be Hermione's friend, not when he was the killer of so many of her friends, both in their last year of school, and after.

He smirked to himself as he thought up a plan. Being Hermione's friend would be his atonement. Being good to her and her friends would be how he showed he regretted his actions. Hermione would never need to know about what was in the past; after all, the past was past, and things had changed since then.

Blaise Zabini decided to change himself into a better person, even if that meant he had to fight his best friend in the end; the best friend who was walking down the stairs right now.

"Good!" Draco exclaimed, whooping. "I didn't hear a shot."

Blaise smirked. "Because I haven't shot yet."

Draco visibly deflated, then rolled his eyes at his friend. "Great way to ruin my day, Blaise. I'm going back up, so shoot it, or I'll shoot you."

Even though he was just joking, Blaise stiffened, and was grateful when Draco didn't notice and continued on his way, back up the stairs. Shaking his head, trying to clear the image of Hermione's face from his mind, he looked back to the target and raised the Taurus again. Without being distracted he shot the bullet, straight into the middle of the person's head.

Closing his eyes in weariness, Blaise slumped into a seat, holding the Taurus loosely by his side. What was he going to do if Snape decided to pull the trigger, and instructed him and Draco to do the same? Could he do it? Or would he turn the barrel towards his best friend, instead?

To be honest, Blaise didn't even know _why_ they were destroying the Three. For what reason, other than personal animosity and revenge, did Snape want the Three killed? Did he not anticipate the public outrage at this?

"Tell me you shot that," Draco said, interrupting his friend's thoughts.

Blaise opened his eyes to roll them at his friend. "Yes, I shot it. Can't you see it in the target?"

Draco wheeled around and almost ran to the target. There, very visibly, was a hole, smack dab in the middle of the target's head. He exclaimed in glee, punched his fist in the air, congratulated Blaise on such a skilful target, before dancing around the room in a chant that went:

"_I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb_…"

Blaise rolled his eyes again, although this time he was marginally more happier; he had chosen his path, and he was determined to see it through. He would change his ways, no matter what anyone said about it.

"_I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb_…"

"Egotistical," Blaise muttered under his breath, as his friend continued to ignore him.

Seriously, where was Draco's sense of humility? Sure, the guy had achieved something worthwhile—for once—but soundproofing a room wasn't too hard, especially seeing as it was the basement.

"_I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb_…"

"Keep going, Draco, and I'll drop you a bomb," Blaise said, louder than before.

Blaise took off the earmuffs and glasses, before placing the Taurus into his right holster. For reassurance, he let his finger slide across the Glock 23 in his left holster. Then he started up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to be in his room.

"_I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb, I'm the bomb_…"

"SHUT UP!"

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	10. Friends Forever

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Nine – Friends Forever**

Hermione didn't frequent the Weasley house after her and Ron's fight. Try as he may, even Harry Potter couldn't get through Ron's stubborn mood.

"She doesn't believe me, mate. That's her problem," Ron had insisted. "If she loved me, she wouldn't even think twice about what I said."

This response irked the entire family, but none dared to step in; after all, this was Ron and Hermione's relationship, and they were now adult enough to figure it out on their own.

Finally, Ginny snapped.

"If you loved _her_, you wouldn't even _think_ of lying to her," she shouted at her brother one evening, when he was grumbling to Harry about Hermione. "And _then_ she'd have absolutely _no_ reason to doubt you."

Glaring at her brother hatefully, she spun on her heel with a flick of her flaming hair and walked out without another word.

If Ginny was being honest, her hate for her brother was partly because she blamed him for Hermione not being around anymore. Hermione was the one person who had still spent as much time as they could at the Weasley house; other than Mr and Mrs Weasley, of course. Ginny still hadn't found a house suitable close to her work; after all, her work was right around the corner from her parents', so she decided to just stay.

But even Harry didn't spend as much time as Hermione did at the Weasley house. He was often called away to important assignments at odd hours, while Hermione's and Ginny's timetables were pretty much similar; regular eight to four day shifts.

Ginny knew why Hermione preferred to stay at the Weasley house than at her own flat. She had been to her friend's flat, and secretly agreed to Hermione's complaints about it. It was cold and damp, and it didn't have the warmth of the Weasley house. The furniture was sparse and far apart—unlike the Weasley's cluttered, homey home.

Another reason why Ginny was angry at her brother was because she believed he was making her live in her flat. Ginny had felt it, too. Hermione's flat was like a prison. Hermione had spent so much of her time living with at least two other people, and to be alone in her cold flat would seem like solitary confinement.

And she couldn't believe Ron was being such an arse; Hermione had been so downtrodden by him—in their school years, Hermione had liked Ron for so long; five years before Ron finally noticed.

Shaking her head, Ginny made her way up the staircase and flung herself into her room. Picking up the extension phone, she dialled Hermione's number.

Without waiting for a greeting, she said, "Hermione. Come to our house, _now_. I won't have you moping around yours—"

"Gin, pause a sec, breathe," Hermione said teasingly, but Ginny couldn't be fooled by Hermione's teasing tone. There was still that undercurrent of sadness.

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes; something she knew Hermione would hear down the line. "Herm, please come down. We miss you here."

There was silence as Hermione mulled over Ginny's words. Ginny waited patiently, her fingers crossed for a positive response. She could almost kill her brother at her friend's next words:

"He doesn't want me there."

"Aw, Herm," Ginny whined. "It's so _boring_ here."

"Isn't Harry there?"

Ginny cursed silently; she should have known that would Hermione's response. She _should_ have known—after all, Hermione practically lived with them for the last four years.

"He is," Ginny admitted. "But I feel like some girl time. _No one's_ home but Ron and Harry; even _Mum_'s out. There are no _women_ here."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, how about a compromise?"

Ginny's eyes instantly narrowed. "What compromise?"

"Well, seeing as you want some girl time, and I don't want to see any faces I might want to slap, why don't we go out to catch up?"

"Where?"

"I'll pick you up, then we can grab a bite at Rosario Italiano down at the mall."

Ginny smiled. Anything to get Hermione out of her flat. "Sounds like a deal," she agreed.

"Okay," Hermione said, and Ginny could hear her smiling. "I'll pick you up at six."

"Yep," Ginny replied, before putting the phone down and glancing at her watch. It was five thirty.

Considering it was a casual outing, Ginny threw on a pair of blue skinny jeans and a modest black T-shirt that said, 'It's hard being this good looking'. Checking outside to see if it was cold, she decided to wear her favourite black coat; a gift from Harry. She slid light tan leather boots, and an accompanying fringed bag.

Checking her watch again and noting that Hermione was due at her house in five minutes, she grumbled as she made her way back down the steps. She stopped in front of Ron and Harry, who were having some kind of heated argument. As soon as they saw her, they both shut up.

"Harry," she said, without indicating she noticed Ron. "Herm and I are going out. She'll be here in a couple of minutes."

Harry nodded, leaned forward and pecked her cheek. Ginny could smell the cola on his breath.

Smiling at her, he said, "I'll see you later, my fiancée."

Ginny almost trembled at what was promised later, but she hid it behind an arrogant grin, and said, "Don't wait up for me."

"You wish," Harry replied.

Ginny noticed, with satisfaction, that Ron was becoming uncomfortable, and she wanted to rub his nose into it. In fact, she would have, if Hermione didn't honk at that moment.

Kissing Harry goodbye, she stepped out of her house to find Hermione's dark green Celica waiting.

"Hey Herm," Ginny said as she threw open the door and sat on her seat.

"Hey Gin," Hermione replied, as Ginny closed the door and she stomped on the accelerator. She had no wish to so much as look at the Weasley house at the moment.

She missed the saddened, albeit guilty, freckled face staring out at her from the living room window.

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	11. Rosario Italiano

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Ten – Rosario Italiano**

"Woah, woah," Blaise said, grabbing Draco's arm. "Check out this lucky break."

Draco spun around, alerted by his friend's excited tone.

Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley were about to enter a small restaurant: Rosario Italiano.

"Wanna go for a date with me?" Draco asked Blaise, an impish grin on his face.

Blaise made a face at his friend. "You ask me that again, punk, and I'll blast your face."

Draco held his hand up in a mock surrender gesture. But his smirk remained, growing wider as he flourished one arm towards the restaurant, indicating they should join Hermione and the Weaselette.

Blaise's face twisted for a second. "I'll be back. I'm just going to head over to the men's for a sec; knowing Granger, she'll talk for a while."

Draco laughed shortly, before nodding and letting his friend go. Turning back to Hermione, Draco watched her intensely with his silver-blue eyes.

She was about to sit down when one man stood up. It was clear to Draco that this man was watching Hermione for some reason. Draco's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, as the man's profile was familiar. Draco stretched a pale finger over his Glock in a move that he was defaulted to; it served both as warning and assurance.

His finger tightened as he was allowed a glimpse of the man's face; it was the same man from the alley.

He weaved in and out of the shoppers as he tried to discreetly make his way to the restaurant. Reaching it, he just heard the vile man's obnoxious whisper to Hermione as he laid a hand on her back.

"Come on, love," the man hissed. "Make your way out without making a scene, and your pretty little friend won't have to be hurt."

Draco heard Hermione's trembling voice as she said, "Hang on one sec, Gin. I just have to go to the ladies'."

Without waiting for another word, Draco crossed the threshold and made his way to the man's back; he was too busy with making sure his captive was as threatened as possible to notice much else around him.

Over the man's head, he saw Ginny's eyes widen at the sight of him. Both pleading and threatening with his eyes to keep Ginny's mouth shut, Draco swiftly laid the Glock's barrel on the man's back, keeping it hidden by his long cloak.

"And you, my dear friend," Draco hissed into the man's ear, "Will step outside now, without making a scene, and you won't be hurt… much."

The man's face turned to Draco, leering. "Oh, if it wasn't sonny boy… We meet again, my friend."

To Draco's immense horror, the man pulled a long, thin knife from his sleeve, and pushed it under Hermione's chin. Ginny recoiled from the knife, but wisely kept her mouth shut; she knew Hermione would suffer if she screamed. For Hermione's part, she was quaking with fear, but someone was here to protect her; she could feel it.

"Now," the man breathed, his grin triumphant, "_I_ suggest that _you_ don't make a scene, or _your_ little friend will die."

Draco didn't relinquish his strong grip on the Glock, nor withdrew it from the man's back. This part of the restaurant wasn't too crowded, and Hermione was facing the wall; not too many people would notice.

"This goes past just wanting to get laid, isn't it?" Draco asked.

The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but didn't say a word.

"No…" Draco said, pensive. "This is because you're trying to have some marathon; you're _proud_ of how many women you've raped, and you're not about to lose a girl that you've laid your eyes on."

The man again remained silent, and Draco took it as a positive. His mind was still working out how to steady this man's knife-wielding hand. Draco leaned closer as his thoughts walked down a darker path.

"Do you like their pain?" Draco whispered. "Do you like hearing them scream? Feel them fight?"

The man began panting slightly, and Draco had no doubt what was going through the man's head. The man was obviously going through his past experiences, and it was making him more frustrated and volatile. His eyes slid in and out of focus as his memories caught up with him.

Draco's eyes didn't betray Ginny as she stood up stealthily and reached a freckled hand towards the knife at Hermione's throat.

Then several things happened at once.

With the reflexes of a cat, Ginny stole the knife out of the man's loosened grip. Taking his cue, Draco kicked the man behind the knee—and hoped he had dislocated it—so that he couldn't pursue Ginny. At the same time, a heavy thud was heard as Blaise's fist impacted with the man's skull, making him unconscious, so that he couldn't make a sound at the pain of his knee.

Before the man could topple to the floor, Blaise caught him and steadied him; a habit that became reflex reaction. Wincing slightly at the man's dead weight, and his hurting knuckles, Blaise lowered him down to a seat, then lowered him some more until he was under the table. That would have to be a sufficient hiding place for now, until the man woke up.

When Blaise straightened up, the first thing he saw was Hermione, her eyes darting from Draco, who was holstering the Glock, to Ginny, who was staring in disgusted horror at the knife her hand was holding, panting slightly, to himself, dusting his robes.

She seemed unable to take it anymore. She stumbled towards the nearest person, who happened to be Blaise, and squashed herself against his chest, her shoulders jumping up and down as she let her terrified tears come through.

After one worried glance at Draco, who was watching him rather sourly, Blaise placed his own arms around Hermione's waist, and let the girl cry herself past her shock. Over her head, he saw Draco look away, towards Ginny.

Draco smirked. "Did you want a hug, too?"

Ginny glared at him, disgusted again. "No thanks, Malfoy. I'm quite fine, as it is."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, his teasing air gone as he glanced once more towards Hermione. "Whatever you say."

As if hearing Draco's voice wakened her, Hermione peered over Blaise's shoulder, and immediately Blaise unclasped his arms around her.

"Draco," Hermione breathed as she walked slowly towards him, almost in a dream-like state, then buried herself in Draco's arms. "That's twice you've saved me."

"And it's going to be the last time he'll ever do it."

Ron Weasley was staring at them, disgusted, angry shock plain on his freckled face.

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	12. The Hidden Truth

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – The Hidden Truth**

"Ron," was said by four different voices and four different tones.

Hermione said it like her own personal Hell had appeared. Ginny's irate tone spat her brother's name out, daring him to continue. Confusion was plain in Blaise's tone, and Draco's was said as a warning.

"How could you, Hermione?" he yelled. Half the customers turned to watch them. "I _knew_ there was something wrong happening! Is _this_ why you took so long to come home? Was _this_ what was happening while you were supposed to be at the meeting?"

Ginny's breath whistled through her teeth as she gasped. "There was no meeting that night, Ronald Weasley! How can you even _dare_—"

"Stay out of this, Ginevra," he spat back, his fierce brown eyes turning on his sister. "This is none of your business."

"Damn _right_ this is my business," she shrieked. "You have _no right_—"

"Shut _up_!" Ron screamed.

Draco and Blaise were taken aback. Ron Weasley seemed to have utterly lost his mind. They had no clue what was going on, but were watching the play of events with something akin to horror.

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but Hermione calmed her.

"No, it's alright, Gin," she said softly, having just spotted something on Ron's face.

She gently untangled herself from Draco's embrace, before taking small steps to Ron. He watched her angrily, but Draco could see the slight trepidation in his eyes. He watched as Hermione wordlessly reached a hand and touched the corner of Ron's lips.

"Ronald Weasley," she said, her voice dangerously soft. "Have you been _kissing_ someone?"

Complete.

Utter.

Silence.

Draco watched every emotion on Ron's face, while Blaise was staring at Hermione, concerned that her voice belayed both the shock of the evening, and how close to the edge of her sanity she was. Ginny was staring at Ron, trying to understand what was happening, and noting for herself how Ron's lips were unusually full and red; red like the skin of a bruised apple.

Ron smirked evilly at her, but again, Draco could see something in Ron's eyes. "If you must know, Hermione, I was drinking wine this evening with Harry—"

"I _said_," Hermione breathed, before shouting at the top of her lungs, "have _you_ BEEN _KISSING_ SOMEONE?"

Ron stared at her, his eyes almost flat, and his lips firmly closed. Draco noticed the expression as of one trying to hide his emotions. He leaned back, ready to be amused by tonight's drama. But what Hermione did next shocked him.

Screeching wordlessly, she reached one arm back, pulled the knife out of Ginny's grasp, before pointing it threateningly at Ron. Draco smirked slightly at the look of utter terror on Weasel Bee's face.

"Tell me the truth, Ronald Weasley," Hermione hissed, "or _so_ help me…"

She didn't bother continuing her threat, knowing it would be received duly. But she did bring it one inch closer to Ron's throat, and Ron had gone cross-eyed to keep it in view.

"Would you relax, you mad woman?" he whined helplessly. "I-I've just been drinking wine tonight with Harry—you can ask Ginny, she saw me—"

Everyone turned to Ginny, whose eyes were positively livid that her brother had dared to bring her into this, especially after he had just told her to stay out of it.

"You filthy little hypocrite," she said coldly. "You told me to mind my own goddamn business, and now you're dragging me in to save your skin?"

She flicked her flaming hair over her shoulder before turning her fiery eyes back to her brother.

"Yes, I _testify_ that I saw you and Harry drinking tonight, but I am one hundred percent sure that it wasn't wine."

Ron's eyes pleaded with Ginny to let him slide this once, but Ginny glared back, unrelenting.

"You see," Ginny said, her voice going back to its cool arrogance, "Mum and Dad locked away all the wine in a place you don't know, because they didn't want anyone to coerce Harry into drinking at a two-month long bachelor party."

Ron looked as though he had been slapped. Their audience's eyes were flicking back and forth between the two redheaded siblings.

"But for all you know, it could have been wine _I _bought somewhere else, and I had only invited Harry to drink it with me!"

Ginny smirked. She was succeeding in cornering her brother into admitting something which she had been sure he had been hiding for a while.

"Harry didn't drink wine tonight," she said. "Don't you remember he kissed me as I headed out of the house? He was drinking Coke; wine doesn't smell like cola."

Ron's eyes widened as his alibis started running out. "Okay, fine! I admit, I drank wine here, in the mall. Alright? I was just so gutted that we had that fight that I just had to drown my sorrows in alcohol!"

Ginny's eyebrow raised sceptically. "You didn't sound so gutted when you and Harry were talking—in fact, you were vehemently defending your status of 'If she loved me, she would believe me, no matter what'."

Hermione's eyes flicked back to Ginny, shocked at what her friend had said. Did Ron really believe that just because she loved him, she would blindingly believe whatever he said? Where was the equality in that?

"Ron, is this true?" she asked, her wide eyes turning back to the redhead in front of her.

"If he said he didn't love you, and that he hated you and your prudishness, then I'd wager my month's salary that it's true," a shrill voice giggled from behind Ron. "Seriously, Granger, who would ever want to stay with you—the beaver-toothed, frizzy-haired know-it-all who was so prudish she'd put a clam to shame."

There, in a skimpy, sparkling, strapless red dress that cut off mid-thigh, with her golden-brown locks tousled, her make-up smeared, her lipstick a strong, vibrant red, and sporting a hickey on her throat, was Lavender Brown.

* * *

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	13. All Hell Breaks Loose

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – All Hell Breaks Loose**

"You lot better have a good explanation for tonight," Mr Weasley said, as his eyes fell on the group pouring in through the front door.

At the very front was Ginny, a strong look of anger just peeking through her calm exterior. Her hair was a little messy from the number of times she flicked it over her shoulder and ran an irritated hand over it in the course of the half hour that she had screamed at her brother.

Behind her was Ron, looking incredibly guilty and watching his feet eat up the floor.

Holding on to his arm was an excited Lavender Brown, who still had not arranged her hair nor her make-up, and did nothing to cover up the hickey on her neck.

As if completing some sort of guard, Blaise was behind Lavender, his face screwed up in disgust as he realised that Lavender was actually _excited_ to be in Ron's house with his parents. As if Ron would be taking this opportunity to be introducing her to his parents as though he were marrying her.

And behind the whole group, being half-carried by a worried Draco, was a semi-conscious, shocked, and obviously distressed Hermione.

"You better explain yourself, Ronald Weasley," Mrs Weasley exclaimed, as she eyed the guilty expression on her son in the middle of the group, practically flanked by Ginny and Blaise, and the fragility of Hermione at the very end.

The woman's sharp tone of reprimand brought Harry down the stairs, and right in front of the group. Draco winced.

His eyes first went to his fiancée. Quickly walking towards her, he reached out an arm and pecked Ginny on the cheek. "I was starting to get worried, Gin. You've been gone almost three hours."

Then his eyes noted that hers were angry and defiant, and, concerned again, his eyes left hers to travel down the group.

Seeing who was simperingly holding on to Ron's arm, he took three furious strides, and punched Ron's face. "So that's why you left, you bas—"

Then, he seemed to remember himself, and glanced apologetically to Mr and Mrs Weasley, who were watching the whole scene with shock on their faces. They seemed grateful to Harry that he hadn't fully sworn in front of them.

Before they could say a word, Harry's eyes continued their assessment. The person after was someone Harry didn't expect.

"Blaise Zabini?" he asked, curious, cautious and shocked.

Hermione chose that time to moan, and Harry's eyes snapped to her. "Hermione! Are you alright?"

Harry caught her just before she held out her arms to him and fell towards him. She held on to his upper arms with hands like pincers, and she looked at him as though she was about to tell him something of utmost importance.

"Harry," she whispered. "Promise me—promise me that you'll hear the story. Promise me not to jump to conclusions. Let go of the past for a second, for me. Promise me you won't hurt…"

Hermione passed out. Harry's eyes blurred as tears appeared, and he picked her up again, gently, saying softly, "I promise, Hermione."

He looked up to thank whoever had taken care of Hermione up to that point, and his words died in this throat.

"YOU!" he shouted, pointing one finger accusingly.

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, me, Potter. Pardon me for being so rude to interrupt your irate monologue, but it seems like your friend really needs a proper rest, so if I were you, I'd do all the name-calling, memory-recalling tirade later."

Harry's eyes narrowed as his arch-enemy patronised him. He lifted Hermione up, decided that he could never carry her up the stairs, and began slowly dragging her to the couch in the living room.

As Draco reached out a hand to help, he shouted, "No! Don't touch her."

Draco paused, and anger flashed in his silver-blue eyes, before he calmed again. He should have expected this; after all, Potter was nothing if not protective and hero-wannabe.

Blaise was about to help as well, but the look Harry sent him was enough to keep his hands in his pockets. For Hermione's sake, so that she could rest and recover quickly, and knowing that Harry would most likely shout again, and Hermione might be wakened by the noise, he let Harry half-carry Hermione by himself.

When Ron was about to reach out to help, it was Ginny who spoke up. "You've done enough, Ronald Weasley."

Mr and Mrs Weasley looked even more shocked at the tone Ginny had used, but did not bother to reprimand her; after all, she had done it for a reason, and felt like she deserved it. Instead, they busied themselves; Mr Weasley went to prepare the couch, and Mrs Weasley headed to the kitchen to make a small, light supper.

Ginny stepped up and helped Harry carry Hermione to the couch. They laid her comfortably, took her coat and boots off, and softly placed a blanket on top of her.

They and Mr Weasley smiled down at her, feeling a small part of the heavy burden in their hearts ease as Hermione rested. The girl had gone through so much recently, they felt like a part of their hearts were laid to rest, just like Hermione did on the couch.

Still smiling, Mr Weasley patted Hermione's head softly, like he would to one of his children when they were smaller. Harry reached out a finger and stroked Hermione's cheek with the back of it, and Ginny combed Hermione's hair back softly, as her mother used to do to her when she was about to sleep.

Mr Weasley departed, using the excuse of setting up the guest room upstairs to escape the tension as Harry and Ginny rejoined the group.

After five minutes of Harry staring hostilely at Draco, Blaise, Ron, and the simpering witch behind him, Mrs Weasley came back, carrying a tray laden with cookies, an empty mug, teabags, sugar, a small pot of coffee beans, cream, and the portable steel tea kettle full of just boiled water. Her theory was that when Hermione woke up, she'd choose whatever she wanted to drink, and the water would still be hot enough in the kettle.

Placing it gently on the coffee table in front of Hermione, she lovingly glanced at the girl she already considered her daughter, and pulled her covers up more securely. Then tip-toeing back out, she closed the living room door.

Her face when she turned back to the group was the complete opposite of what it was two seconds ago. Molly Weasley was livid; it was evident in the way her eyes were narrowed into slits, and her hair was frizzing more than usual around her head. She looked like a bigger, scarier version of Ginny.

Pointing in the direction of the dining room, she said fiercely, "All of you. _Now_."

* * *

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	14. The End Of The Beginning

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – The End Of The Beginning**

Harry chose the chair closest to the kitchen, at the head of the table. From his position, he could see the lines being drawn.

Ginny sat directly opposite him, at the other end of the table, glaring defiantly at everyone. Ron, followed by Lavender, sat on the side closest to the wall; Malfoy and Zabini chose to sit on the side closest to the door. Mrs Weasley stood behind Harry.

All eyes turned to him. Closing his own emerald ones, he said, "Enlighten me."

A cacophony of voices made him open his eyes once more. Everyone had decided to pitch in to add their version of the story. Harry was surprised that even Draco was muttering—he had expected the Slytherin to stay out of it.

"… and then that god-awful witch came up…" he was saying disgustedly.

"… and Hermione was _damn right_ in threatening him…" Ginny was half-shouting, angry again.

"… wasn't my fault… freaking hell, I can have a life…" Ron was trying to defend himself—unsuccessfully; Harry noticed that Mrs Weasley was staring at her son in anger.

"… Hermione is so _prudish_, you can't blame him for wanting _me_…" even Lavender's simpering voice could be heard.

"… don't see why he would even _think_ about doing that…" Blaise was mumbling almost inaudibly.

Finally, the combined voices peaked Harry's migraine.

"QUIET!" he shouted, unable to take it any longer.

Silence reigned again, as all glared at him, offended that he didn't let them finish their story.

"Now," he said slowly, relishing the momentary silence. "Start from the beginning. Ginny."

Again, there was muttering from the entire table.

"… can't trust her, she'll skew it so that _she's_ right…" Ron said darkly.

"… of course her, after all, she _is_ who Potter can trust the most…" Draco muttered.

"… wonder if he'll hear _our_ version, too…" Blaise mumbled under his breath.

"… eww, I can't _believe_ that Harry's about to marry _her_…" Lavender whined.

This time, it was Ginny who cracked. "SHUT IT. It's _my_ turn to speak, so I suggest you _all_ keep quiet until it's _your_ turn to talk."

The room hushed again, all turning to Ginny as she gathered her memories and told her story as she saw it—but she left out the man who had terrorised Hermione; she felt that none of the boys in the room could handle it. Harry would probably stand up and run to find the bastard that dared to hurt her, Draco and Blaise would probably crack their knuckles threateningly and maybe even take their weapons out, and Ron would probably accuse her of making something that drastic up.

Ginny passed off Hermione being in Draco's arms as nothing more than friendly comfort. She made it sound like Draco had appeared just when Hermione tripped over a chair leg in the restaurant, and they had of course invited him to stay. Then she was traumatised when a stray knife hurtled at her from a waiter's careless hand, and Draco had once again 'saved her'.

When she had finished her story with not a single complaint from any of the other occupants around the table (with the exception of Lavender, who simperingly interjected, "I most certainly did _not_ say that", but lacked Ron's back up, and the statement was passed), Harry decided that what his fiancée said was reliable enough to be taken as truth.

He had never doubted her in the first place, but felt that, in this case, with Mrs Weasley and two of her children present, he had to be fair; if someone was to object, he would let them. With the exception of Lavender Brown.

He tapped his index finger against his temple, almost subconsciously.

"Well," he said slowly, "This is... a pickle. I don't really know what to do, to be honest."

All jumped as they heard a weak voice say, "But I do."

Hermione had entered the dining room, carrying the tray—minus the biscuits on the plate, and one dry teabag. Harry stood up and reached an arm towards her after Mrs Weasley relieved her of her small burden. He gave her a comforting hug, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Hermione shrugged, her eyes tight as she stared at Ron and the witch beside him. Ginny got up as well, and wrapped both arms around her friend, before sitting back down. Draco twitched in his seat, but kept still; he knew his hug wouldn't be well accepted by old Scarhead.

Harry was about to lead her to a spare chair, but Hermione shook her head fiercely.

"I have no desire to sit at the same table as Ronald Weasley and his… Lavender Brown," she declared. "But know this."

She pulled her face closer to Ron's, and he leaned away, terrified. "I hate you, Ronald Weasley."

Lavender's high-pitched, girly laugh echoed in the silent dining room, and Draco and Blaise wanted nothing more than to pull out their guns and shoot her, even if to just stop her from shrivelling their ears off.

"You are so _pathetic_, Hermione Granger," she shrieked shrilly, before cackling again. "Can't you see that Won-won deserves so much better than _you_?"

Draco stood up, anger shaking his frame. But he decided to reign himself in; deciding that Hermione's need to depend on someone was stronger than Lavender's want to have her face cave in on itself.

He reached out a long, strong arm, and coiled it around Hermione's waist, hoping to comfort her. He could feel Potter's daggered looks at the back of his head, but he ignored it. He could feel Hermione breaking down, and felt that she wouldn't want an audience to her pain. Slowly, he led her away.

Before he reached the dining room door, he glanced back. No one had moved. He shot a look at Potter, warning him to keep his distance, told Blaise with his eyes to stay and see what the result of the 'trial' was, glared at Weasel Bee and the witch beside him, who was still rolling around, giggling shrilly at what she had accomplished, then sent half a reassuring glance at Weaselette, trying to tell her that he'd look after Hermione.

Blaise, Ginny and Harry nodded curtly. Draco was about to continue leading Hermione out, when she paused herself, and turned back to the room.

"Oh, and if it wasn't so obvious, Ronald Weasley," she said, adopting the lofty voice she used when wishing to insult (although Draco noticed that she used it this time to also hide her pain), "We are _so_ over."

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**AN **I'm sorry I fell off the face of the Earth, but I'm back now. My sincerest apologies again. To make up for it, how about I post another two chapters? Will you love me again? *puppy dog eyes*

**Chapter 1 / 3**


	15. Medicinal Tears

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – Medicinal Tears**

Hermione's cool, composed façade lasted just past the staircase.

Then Draco had to change his mind; instead of getting her into his car and driving her home, he was forced to settle for the living room—Hermione's grief rendered her unsteady on her feet, and Draco decided that the chances of him getting Hermione into his car without her breaking her legs would be slim.

What was going on? Draco wondered, as he tried to comfort Hermione, hugging her to protect her from her pain. He was sent to seduce her, to be who she turned to when things with her and Ron soured, as Draco was told it would. Although outside, Draco could pretend that everything was going as planned, he knew that inside, _she_ was seducing _him_, unintentionally.

Her pain was so real and strong that Draco was humbled by it. He knew that he wasn't just pretending to get her to trust him; he knew that he was positively burning with this _sincere need_ for her to trust him.

He missed her smile and laughter, and how her eyes had sparkled in joy. True, Draco hadn't seen the most of that side of her, but Draco could just imagine—after all, Hermione seemed pleased to be rescued from the gang in the alley, and then be driven to Draco's flat, then again, when Draco had driven her to the Weasley house.

He missed the beauty he had seen, both inside and out. Now, Hermione was a total wreck; her hair was messy as she had slept fitfully on the couch, her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, her face was wet with tears. Although Draco could still see her beauty, he was slightly saddened by the haunted look in her eyes, now sparkling in more unshed tears.

He was certain of something.

Hermione Granger would never forget this night.

As if hearing his thoughts, Hermione cried harder, which Draco thought was impossible. Nevertheless, he upped his comforting one level; he slowly lifted Hermione and pulled her over his lap, and cradled her like she was a baby. He kept his strong arms around her, knowing that it reassured Hermione that someone did care for her.

Time wore on, and Draco didn't know how many minutes had passed.

When Hermione finally cried herself out, and fell asleep in exhaustion, her head was on the armrest of the couch, her feet on the other arm rest, and she was sitting on Draco. His right arm was around her waist, and his left supported her neck. Her head was facing Draco's chest, and she was snuggling against him.

That made Draco feel like some sort of guardian, watching over her as she slept.

The tear tracks glistened on her face, and her small lips were parted as she breathed in and out. Sometimes, she'd whimper; a sound so full of pain and fragility that Draco could almost feel his heart break.

"I know I hate you and you're my enemy and all," a voice suddenly whispered, "But I'm so goddamned grateful for what you're doing that I might just overlook that."

Draco looked up, so immersed in watching Hermione that he didn't notice Harry Potter had come in the room, and was also gazing at Hermione sleeping.

Potter's eyes widened in shock as he saw something in Draco's face, some small sign that he had let his guard down, and that Draco Malfoy—haughty, cold-hearted Slytherin Prince from Hogwarts—was feeling some real, genuine feeling for his best friend, for his sister.

Then his eyes narrowed again in suspicion as Draco pulled his mask back up. Harry was then certain that Draco was hiding something from him. But he didn't push it, not when Draco was cradling one of the most important people in his life.

"You hurt one hair on her head, Malfoy," Harry hissed, "and you'll have hell to pay for."

Draco's own silver-blue eyes narrowed. "What made you think that I would hurt her, Potter? After all she's been through, there'd be no way I'd even think about that."

But Harry didn't let his guard down. "Just remember that, Malfoy. I may have let Ron too much, and that led to this, but if you so much as _think_ of hurting her, no matter how she sees you, even just as a friend, I'll make you pay."

Draco was flabbergasted, and again, the haughty mask from his face slipped, allowing more real emotion flood into his eyes, and Harry noticed it again.

"And what makes you think she'll see me as something more than a friend?" Draco whispered furiously. "I've been her goddamn enemy in her six years at school—"

"She's a very forgiving person, Malfoy," Harry hissed back. "Why do you think Ron's gotten away with this much before she finally took her own step at getting back at him?"

Draco opened his mouth again, trying to come up with an argument, but he knew he was just trying to convince himself that Hermione would never see him that way. And, in a way, he wanted to see what Potter thought—after all, he was one of the most influential people in her life.

Draco closed his mouth again, irritated when he saw a knowing look in Potter's eyes.

"You'll heal her, Malfoy," Harry said, albeit grudgingly. "I can see that you're still that strong, confident person from Hogwarts. She'll grow to rely on you, especially after you being here for her when things between her and Ron ended."

Draco's eyes widened as his arch-nemesis admitted that he, Draco, antagonist of Potter and his best friends in school, would heal Hermione himself. He couldn't believe Potter was taking it so… calmly.

"But I'm warning you again, Malfoy," Harry continued, "Even if she sees you as nothing more than a friend, you hurt her, and I'll hurt you."

Well, not so calmly.

Draco had an inkling that the Weaselette had a hand in this. Thinking of Ginny brought the 'trial' back into his mind.

"Where's everyone?" he asked.

"Ginny's upstairs, getting an extra camp bed set up in the guest room," Harry replied, before smacking his forehead loudly, causing Hermione to stir. "I forgot, you're invited to stay the night, because… you know, she might be a little distressed."

Draco nodded, understanding. "Where are the others?"

"Your friend has gone home… he didn't say much, just told you that he wanted to talk to you whenever you were available, because he's figured something out."

Again, Draco nodded. Blaise would want to talk to him about the mission; after all, Draco had just shown weakness, and that would be a gaping hole in the plan. To be honest, Draco was slightly dreading seeing Blaise tomorrow; he had an inkling that his friend would be none too happy about this drastic turn of events.

"Oh, and Won-won and Lav-lav," Harry's eyes rolled sarcastically, "have been booted out; Mrs Weasley said they better not be in the house when Hermione woke up, because of her obvious mental and emotional state. The last I heard was that they were heading to Ron's flat."

Harry and Draco stopped talking when Hermione shifted restlessly as Ron's name slipped into her subconscious, sleeping state. When she began to cry again, but this time in her sleep, and as she began to have a nightmare—Harry and Draco thought that she was trying to escape something from her dream—they both shushed her gently, Draco rocking her as if she was a small child in need of comforting.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, continuing a previous train of thought. "You'll be good for her."

* * *

**AN: Chapter 2 / 3**


	16. Nightmare Into Dream

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – Nightmare Into Dream**

"Draco, are you sure you don't want the camp bed?" Mrs Weasley asked anxiously as she saw the platinum blonde boy sitting at the head of the guest room's bed.

Draco shook his head politely. He had already tried to extricate himself from Hermione when Potter offered to carry her up the staircase, and Draco accepted the offer gratefully—he wanted to stretch.

But the girl had thrashed, still in her sleep, as if she knew that her safe rock and mental harbour was about to let her go. Or maybe she had noted the warmer arms that held her sleeping frame, and was reminded in her nightmare of another set of equally warm arms that used to hold her, and then had betrayed her.

In any case, Draco resigned himself to be the one to carry her up the staircase, and the girl slept peacefully in his arms. He had lain her on the bed gently, and then rushed to the bathroom. When he came back, the girl's whimpering was louder, and her limbs flailed, almost as though she was possessed.

Ginny and Harry had been unable to calm her down, and both felt unwilling to wake her up, so they had waited anxiously until they heard Draco's thunderous footfalls run towards the room.

Draco looked up towards the still anxious Mrs Weasley, and he felt the need to reassure her.

"I promise I won't do anything to her, Mrs Weasley," he said sincerely.

The redheaded woman still looked on in concern, until Mr Weasley walked up, and gently held her arm.

"Come on, dear," he said softly, also watching Hermione. "If Harry and Ginny trust him, we can, too. Let's get some rest, sweetheart, you've had a long day."

Finally surrendering, Mrs Weasley left, but without one last sympathetic glance at Hermione, and a threatening glare at the platinum blonde boy who cradled her.

Draco sighed in relief as the woman left, and turned off the light at the same time. Stretching a pale arm, he reached out and his searching fingers found what they were looking for; soft peach light emanated from the touch-lamp on the bedside table.

Draco turned his attention back to the sleeping girl in his arms. He could tell that her sleep had deepened, and he felt safe to stand up and remove his long black cloak. He spun around when Hermione spoke, but realised that she was just sleep talking.

Moving back to her side, he watched as her eyebrows puckered, and a little V appeared between them.

"No… Draco…" she muttered.

The said boy's eyes widened. She was dreaming about him?

Then the creases on her face eased, and her lips upped a little at the corners.

"You saved me again," she breathed.

She sounded so awake that Draco began to feel his heart pounding. What would she say if she caught him staring at her? But she said no more, and her little smile slowly disappeared as she sank deeper into unconsciousness.

Draco stared down at her sleeping face, wondering what to do. As Potter had said, this was a pickle.

Snape hadn't chosen him for no reason; he had chosen him because of his skills at seduction and lies, as well as manipulation and choosing the perfect time to attack. Snape had planned everything. This time, it seemed to Draco that Snape had chosen him for this target to test him.

He swore he could flay that man when he next saw him.

What was Draco to do? If Snape found out, he would be in for it, and no doubt would be Hermione. What did that greasy man have against the beautiful girl, anyway? Draco could understand if Snape wanted Harry Potter out, because of his life-long enmity with Potter Senior, but Hermione had nothing to do with that.

Or did Snape want to hurt Potter by attacking his close friends? Was that it? Draco's eyes widened in horror.

Sure, Draco hated Potter for everything that had happened in Hogwarts, but Potter was right; it was time to put aside their old prejudices and leave the past in the past. It was the Fourth Liberated Year, for crying out loud, four years since the defeat of the man who had instigated the prejudices in the first place.

And besides, he would have to start getting used to Potter if he wanted to stick with Hermione.

Then Draco's eyes widened again. Since when had she become 'Hermione'? For so long, he had called her by her last name—if not other derogatory terms—and he had never noticed when he began to call her by her first name, even in his thoughts.

Draco shook his head morosely. Not so long ago, he had accused Blaise of going soft and losing his edge, but now, it was he, Draco Malfoy, who was losing his edge.

Thinking of his best friend had Draco cringing. What would he do about Blaise? He had noticed that his friend was such a gentleman towards Hermione, and he couldn't help but hope that Blaise would accept his feelings for her.

If Blaise was attracted to Hermione, too, that might pose a problem for Draco; he didn't want to fight against his friend for Hermione. But it might be helpful, too—his friend might be forgiving, let Draco have Hermione, and help him find a way to keep them all alive.

In the end, he decided to remain neutral until he understood Blaise's view on things.

It wouldn't do to be gushing and falling over himself head over heels, declaring his feelings for Hermione. One, because Malfoys do not gush and publicly declare emotions, even to best friends, and two, because Blaise might decide he was fraternizing with the enemy and shoot him, or worse, report to Snape.

On the other hand, he didn't want to act all high and mighty, because Blaise might then interpret it as Draco not wanting Hermione, and then make his own move, and Draco didn't want to lose the chance of being with her. And there was always the chance that Hermione would notice—in fact, Draco was confident that Hermione _would_ notice, after all, she wasn't the brightest girl in their school for nothing. And especially as she had just been through a tough time—she would feel undeserving and belittled.

All in all, Draco's mind and thoughts were awhirl that night.

He hated Snape for pushing him through this. At the same time, he was thankful to the oily-haired man for showing him the way to the beautiful girl who was lying on the bed next to him.

But again, he couldn't help but ask himself: why was Snape doing this? What was his motivation? If hurting Potter through his friends was why, then Draco felt that he was succeeding. After all, Snape had just succeeded in alienating Potter from both of his best friends—Hermione's pain would force her to shun away all contact and become some kind of clam, and Weasel Bee had left both Hermione and Potter for Lavender Brown…

Draco mentally smacked himself for being so blind. He knew now. He understood those cryptic words spoken in that haughty drawl, that arrogant smirk beneath the hooked nose. He knew what Snape was talking about, almost a month ago, when he, Snape and Blaise were still discussing the mission.

Lavender Brown was Final Plan B.

* * *

**AN: Chapter 3 / 3**

Love you all. Sorry again.

**Review if you want to keep this stoy rolling.  
**


	17. Safe Rock, Mental Harbour

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen – Safe Rock, Mental Harbour**

Hermione woke up, squinting against the ray of sunshine peeking through the small gap in between the curtains. Stretching and yawning, she froze when she felt something strange.

An arm was coiled around her waist.

She looked down, and was slightly surprised to see that, instead of the freckled skin she had been expecting to see, the arm was cold, pale, and lean.

She knew of only one person who had that skin.

"Draco?" she asked softly.

The man behind her shifted and moaned. Then his silver-blue eyes slowly opened, and he sat up, too, smiling at the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, his voice still raspy with sleep.

Then his eyes popped, and he instantly withdrew his arm from Hermione's waist and pulled it through his already messy blonde hair. Hermione felt a small pang in her heart at the loss of contact, and wondered why that was.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry," he apologised.

Hermione's mouth twisted slightly. "Why _are_ you in bed with me?"

In that infinitesimal moment before Draco opened his mouth and answered, all of the memories from last night flooded back to her. She gasped as she remembered the man who threatened her, how Draco and Blaise had saved her, and then Ron's betrayal.

Before Draco could answer, she all of a sudden leaned forwards and began crying again, the pain in her heart refreshed. At once, Draco coiled left arm around her waist, and stroked her hair and face with his right hand.

"Shh," he cooed softly as Hermione cried on him. "It's going to be okay, Hermione…"

She didn't say anything, just sobbed. Finally, her sobs quietened other than the occasional hiccup, but Draco continued to comfort her, his own silver-blue eyes closed and his chin resting on her head.

"You see," he whispered softly, teasingly, "_this_ is why I'm in bed with you… though technically not in _that_ way."

Hermione smiled ruefully.

Draco had been there for her all along. He rescued her from the men in the alley, then again from the man in the restaurant; he was there when Ron's hidden truth was brought to the open, then after, when the pain finally got through to her, and she had broken down.

And then _again_, when she had been sleeping—the reason for her lack of nightmares was because her subconsciousness thought of Draco as her saviour; and when he had held her when she was sleeping, he had held her together, he had protected her from the pain and the nightmares that came with it.

Thinking about what happened last night had Hermione cringing.

"Where is… he?" she asked, knowing that Draco wouldn't need any more than that.

He fidgeted a little, then replied, "He's at his flat. With her."

Hermione closed her eyes, and let the tears slide down her face quietly. She had hoped that when she awoke it had been a bad dream, that Ron would wake her up with a cheery good-morning as he crossed her room to open the curtains. She had hoped that Ron's betrayal was nothing more than her mind conjuring up the worst possible scenario.

A scenario that was much too real.

A knock was heard from the bedroom door. As one, they jumped from each other's arms, both guiltily dusting down their clothes, guilty that they had been caught 'fraternizing' with each other.

"Draco?" Harry's concerned voice was heard through the wood. "Is Hermione okay?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile was on her face. Harry was such a protective friend, and she loved him all the more for it.

"I'm awake, Harry," she replied.

"Oh," he said, then there was an awkward pause. There was an odd scuffling sound, and then Ginny's voice was heard.

"Herm, I don't think you should go to work today," she commanded.

Hermione bit her lip. It was true that she didn't want to go outside, didn't even want to see the sunshine, the colours, when everything felt bleak and grey. But her workload wasn't light; it wasn't too heavy, but it was enough to be a burden.

"Gin…"

"Don't even _think_ of trying to sneak out of this, Herm," Ginny threatened.

Draco chuckled slightly at the sight of Ginny Weasley firing up to her friend. Then he chuckled again when Hermione shot him an irritated look.

"Look, why is the door still closed?" Ginny asked, her voice suspicious. "I thought you'd have opened up when Harry came down here."

Hermione shook her head, then with some trepidation, walked a few steps in the direction of the door.

"I don't like talking to a closed door, you know," Ginny commented.

It flung open. Hermione was almost thrown back at the force.

"There, that's better," Ginny said, a smirk plastered on her face.

Draco's rumbling laugh increased in volume as an irate Hermione glared at her friend, the said friend smirking back at her, with the friend's fiancée looking in at the commotion with a look that clearly said help-get-me-out-of-here.

"Tell you what," Ginny said, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. "Why don't we go and finish that pizza we never got."

"Ginny," Harry said cautiously, his eyes flicking back to Hermione and clearly wondering about her mental and emotional state, "I don't think that's a good—"

"I didn't mean Rosario," Ginny said, her tone implying that she knew of Hermione's fragility. "I meant down at the city. Somewhere _new_."

Hermione's eyes flickered between Harry, Ginny and Draco. She was wondering if Ginny was alright with Draco coming, if Harry didn't mind her, one of his best friends, being in the company with one of his most hated enemies, and if Draco minded being with her and her friends.

Ginny and Harry caught the look. They glanced at each other, but that glance said everything. Hermione would need Draco, at least for a while. He would help heal her. They knew what to do.

"Hermione," Ginny said softly, "Of course Draco can come."

"We don't mind," Harry added, although he shot a veiled threatening look towards the blonde boy standing rigidly in the corner. "For a while."

* * *

**AN: **Apologies for the twelve or thirteen emails I sent by mistake. I was cleaning up the story; I've just realised how much smilies I've used, and how it was sort of distracting. Sorry again, and I'm happy to say that yes, I'm back to regular posting. Next update should be within two weeks; sorry, people, but I really do want reviews. This story was made for the readers, and I'd appreciate it if at least some of them (namely, YOU) could review. Thanks.

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	18. Someplace New

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – Someplace New**

"Really, Hermione," Draco said finally, pushing away Hermione's offer of another cola. "I'm full enough as it is."

He stifled a burp with difficulty, and looked at his plate with its two slices left. He had eaten almost an entire goddamn pizza on his own, and he wasn't liking the feeling of being stuffed. He didn't even know he could eat that much, much less _pizza_—it was too _ordinary_ and _street-food-ish_ to have landed on a normal Malfoy meal.

But he knew why he had kept eating; it made Hermione feel better that her efforts at being a friend were being appreciated. He knew that Hermione was probably feeling a little guilty that she had made him stay because of her.

Draco winced as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Glancing at his watch as Hermione and Ginny tried to chat normally, he was astounded that it was already eleven thirty. He, Hermione and Ginny had gone out at eight—too early for pizza, but Ginny had insisted—and he knew that he had to go soon; Blaise wouldn't appreciate being kept waiting.

Pulling out his phone, he wasn't surprised when Blaise's number came up with a text message.

From: Blaise

**Man, you better have a good excuse.**

Those six and a half words sent Draco cringing.

As tempted as he was to stay with Ginny and Hermione, he knew he had no choice. Why prolong the inevitable? After all, Blaise would probably only get suspicious if he stayed any longer, and Draco had to keep Blaise in the dark as long as possible.

"I really hate to go, ladies," Draco drawled, sincerity in his voice, "But Blaise is getting _quite_ annoyed."

Hermione bit her lip, while Ginny glanced between them. Could she read Draco's _need_ to stay with Hermione.

An awkward silence stretched, until Draco finally stood up. It was clear that neither Hermione nor Ginny were going to say anything.

"Are you coming back?" Hermione's timid voice finally asked.

Draco's silver-blue eyes widened. Again, he was being confronted with a dilemma: was she actually serious, or just complying with standard etiquettes?

"Do you _want _me to come back?" he asked, incredulously.

Hermione smiled awkwardly up at him. "You _are_ my friend… so, yeah, I guess I would like you to come back. If that's okay with you, of course."

Draco felt his spirit soaring. Never had he felt so… _wanted_. Even as a friend.

"Sure, I'll come. Whenever you want."

Hermione smiled radiantly. Ginny's smile mirrored hers.

"I'll see you later?" Draco said.

"Later," both girls said in unison.

Before his urge to tap dance on the table in his joy became too much, Draco pushed his way out the door and into the cold. His face twisted into a grimace. It was ironic to him that it threatened to snow tonight.

Draco let himself in into the flat he shared. He felt a chill shiver down his spine as he closed the door behind him.

The flat was unusually frostily silent.

"Blaise?"

When his question went unanswered, his sense of foreboding increased, and he pulled the Glock out of its holster and held it loosely by his side.

He walked up the stairs and looked into Blaise's room, whose door was wide open.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Blaise there, lying on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head, a contemplative look on his face as he stared at the ceiling.

"Blaise, I—"

"Have you ever wondered _why_, and not _how_, Draco?" Blaise asked, ignoring his friend's entrance.

Draco was confused. "What do you mean? Are you feeling alright, Blaise?"

Blaise tore his dark eyes from the ceiling and stared at his friend. "Being who we are. Being assigned to _kill_ Hermione Granger and the Golden Trio, as well as their allies. Have you ever wondered why?"

Draco stiffened. What did his friend want him to say? How could he reply that kind of question? To answer it in the positive would show his position as traitor, and to reply in the negative would alienate him from his friend, who was in a very strange mood.

Without answering, he looked around the room, trying to find _something_, a recording bug, a bottle of alcohol, a copy of some melodramatic film or book about a bad guy turning good.

Nothing. Just as he thought.

So he came to a conclusion.

Blaise was thinking about the same things he had been, too. And Blaise never questioned their missions before. Until Hermione Granger came along.

So Draco came to another conclusion.

Hermione Granger made Blaise Zabini change his mind.

Summing it all up, Draco knew: Blaise Zabini felt some emotion towards Hermione Granger, the girl they had been sent to assassinate. Emotion that went beyond platonic and that was more sincere than just seduction.

Draco straightened his shoulders, pushed the Glock back into its holster, and stared straight back into Blaise's eyes. He had a clearer view now of where Blaise was positioned in this precarious game of chess they were playing.

"Yes, I've been thinking about it."

* * *

**AN: **I think I've drawn it out for long enough, although I was hoping for more reviews. Sigh.

**_Thanks to _Meeko13_ for reviewing, like, a lot_ =P **

The more you review, the more I like you. Haha jk. The more you review constructively, the more I like you.

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	19. Confessions

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen – Confessions**

Blaise raised one ink black eyebrow. Draco Malfoy, proud Slytherin and assassin, questioned the motives behind his mission?

Or was it just _this_ mission in particular? He had never known his friend to ever think about the stuff behind the mission.

"You have?" Blaise said, coolness evident in his voice. "You know, if I was a serious, over-the-top bastard, I would have shot you in the face for daring to ask why. _Traitorous_, I would have called you."

Draco smirked from across the room. "But you didn't, because you're on my side."

Blaise's eyes turned back to the ceiling. "Whose side is that?"

Draco took a while to answer. Blaise had him cornered, good and proper. If Draco was to reply Harry Potter's, Blaise would know he was lying. After all, Draco had never been a fan of the Boy Who Scored when they were younger, and even now, four years later, Draco still hadn't gotten over his aversion to the Chosen Captain.

If Draco was to say he was on the people's side, Blaise would again know he was lying. Draco had always shown contempt for the people, most of who had shunned him when his Voldemort-supporting family came down from their rich, aristocratic position to be lowered beyond the lows.

If Draco answered that he was just sick of being on Snape's side, Blaise would, yet _again_, know he was lying; Draco had always enjoyed the missions he had been given by the slimy git, had enjoyed the power he had of being in control of others' lives.

There was only one answer, really…

"Hermione's," Draco finally whispered. "Hermione's side."

Blaise upraised his friend. He could see the fervour burning behind the silver-blue eyes. He had a look of strong determination on his face. Blaise felt some sort of small satisfaction inside.

Draco had crumbled. Blaise knew it would only be a matter of time before Draco succumbed to Hermione Granger's charms. True, Blaise had always known he himself would fall for her, but Draco had been insistent that he was a brick against Hermione.

Then that small satisfaction flickered and died. He knew what Draco was like, determination so strong that it should really be called stubbornness. He knew that Draco wouldn't let Hermione out of his sight. He knew that he, Blaise, would have to fight against his best friend if he wanted Hermione.

Blaise also knew that they were now tasked with keeping Hermione alive, secretly; if Snape so much as got wind of their plans… No one would be safe.

"You like her, don't you?" Blaise asked, his trepidation carefully concealed between an I-don't-care façade.

Would it really hurt if Draco admitted that he liked the girl Blaise liked? Would it really be painful to have to fight over Hermione Granger when she had just broken up with her boyfriend? Would it hurt if Hermione chose Draco over him?

"I don't have some kind of schoolboy crush on her, if that's what you're asking," Draco snarled angrily.

Blaise shook his head almost unnoticeably, his eyes closing lazily for one second in denial. "No, I was talking about some kind of mature manly infatuation with a woman."

Draco's mouth twisted as he glared at his friend. "You do, too."

It was a statement, not a question. Blaise closed his eyes again, not denying. Draco's harsh laugh made him open his eyes. The man across the room from Blaise was glaring at the floor, his silver-blue eyes glinting maniacally and his face twisted in a grimace.

"I can't believe it," Draco muttered. "When have our missions ever backfired?"

Blaise let out a small, strained chuckle at the ironic hilarity of it all. "When did it start for you?"

"When did what start for me?"

"Everything. The questioning of the motives, the feelings for her."

Draco's lips pulled down at the corners, and his brow furrowed. Blaise recognised this expression; it was the Draco-Malfoy-is-thinking-please-do-not-disturb serious-brain-power-going-on-here look. His friend pulled at a rolling chair and sat himself in it, still staring at the floor as he contemplated his answer.

"I… don't really know," Draco finally said. "It just…"

"Happened," Blaise added helpfully. Draco nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It was the same for me. That night, when you invited her over? That's when it started. Like, you just see her, then…"

"Boom," Draco said. "You like her."

"Love at first sight," Blaise said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Draco glared at his friend, before finally having an answer to his friend's question. "I think when we were in the alley, with the drunks. Seeing her so helpless against those idiots, it made me feel… protective."

Blaise chuckled again at the irony of it all.

Who would have ever guessed that two of the most hardened assassins of their generation would have fallen for the Gryffindork Mouse? The bushy haired know-it-all from their Hogwarts School years? The one they, as a big collaborative gang of Slytherins, bullied the whole time they were there? The one who hid behind books whenever she was intimidated, seeking refuge behind hardbound covers and ghostly tomes?

Whoever knew that, through all of the missions that they had gone through, it would be this particular target that would make both of them lose their previous so-called 'sight' and 'view' of the world?

"Hilarious," Blaise said, "we were sent to seduce her, gain her trust, then kill her, and yet, we're the ones who have fallen for her charms… She'll be the death of us all."

* * *

**AN: **

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	20. The Truth Unveiled

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen – The Truth Unveiled**

Blaise sipped coffee, taking a break from scrutinising the folders of files that were on the kitchen table. He had been looking through the files again, searching for a fatal flaw in Snape's planning.

The coffee paused in his mouth before being swallowed. Blaise had found something rather strange.

Amongst the details of Hermione, such as her hair colour, height, weight, etc, Blaise had found Hermione's conditions of termination different than others.

_Must be kept alive._

Snape had never mentioned that. Usually, Snape allowed, even instructed and forced, Draco and Blaise to destroy the target on first chance. It was strange that Snape wanted Hermione to be kept alive.

Did he have some sort of torture in plan to get her to answer questions? But what could Hermione answer? There were no questions that Snape could ask in relation to Voldemort… unless Snape wanted information on Potter?

Blaise jumped as the front door opened. He swore silently as hot coffee spilt and soaked the front of his shirt.

"Blaise?" Draco asked. "Hermione's here."

Blaise cursed again, before replying cheerily, "Coming."

Dripping coffee and face bright pink, Blaise stepped out of the kitchen and into the lounge. Hermione's expression turned from smiling to shocked, whereas a full-blown grin appeared on Draco's face.

"Blaise!" Hermione cried. "Are you okay?"

Blaise waved a hand nonchalantly. "I'm just gonna go up and change my shirt. I'll be right down."

With another smile at Hermione, and a death-glare at the platinum blonde man who was still smirking at him, he took to the steps to the rooms two at a time.

"Come, Hermione," Blaise heard Draco say, "I bet you're hungry. Want some tea and biscuits?"

"That'd be great, Draco. Thank you."

Blaise shook his head, laughing inwardly at Draco's gentlemanliness. He pulled off the coffee-soaked shirt, threw it into the bath, and ran hot water over it. As he walked back out of the bathroom, Draco was just coming into the room.

"Blaise," Draco whispered fiercely as his friend trudged around the room, trying to find a clean, smooth shirt. "Have you found out anything?"

Blaise, having spotted a black shirt with 'Disastrous catastrophe about to happen', was pulling it on, trying to find an answer that would satisfy his friend.

"Anything about what?" he asked, trying to stall for some time.

"You know what," Draco hissed. He jerked his thumb over his back. "_Her_."

Blaise strode over to the long mirror by the wall closer to the bathroom. He examined himself, before nodding and walking into the bathroom again.

"What did you find?" Draco asked, wild excitement clear in his voice.

"What?" Blaise asked, confused. He turned off the tap and wrung out the shirt.

"You just said yes, you found something," Draco said.

"When?"

"Uh, just now?"

"Oh, come on, Draco, be serious please."

"I am! You be serious, Blaise!"

Blaise turned to his friend while hanging the shirt on the towel rack. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You just nodded when I asked you if you found anything!"

"I did not!" Blaise yelled back, affronted.

"Liar!"

"I think you just misunderstood. I was nodding _to myself_," Blaise shot back. "In the _mirror_?"

Draco closed his eyes in exasperation. He clenched his jaw, and said through his teeth, "I'll ask you once more, Blaise. Have you found anything?"

Blaise turned his back on his friend, concentrating on straightening out the wet shirt. "Maybe? I mean," he added hastily when he saw his friend was about to blow up, "I don't know if we can use it."

"What was it?" Draco asked angrily.

"Well, it said that we don't have to kill her."

Draco stared at Blaise in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It was on… the… files… Holy_._ _Crap_."

"What now?" Draco asked in confusion and trepidation.

He didn't like the panicked look on Blaise's face. He had a feeling that Earth was going to stop spinning and they were all going to fall off any moment.

"Where's Hermione?" Blaise asked urgently, his eyes wide.

"What?"

"_Where's Hermione?_"

"Uh… in—in the kitchen? I-I offered her tea."

"Shit."

Blaise started stomping down the stairs, clear fear on his face. Draco followed him, shock being his strongest expression. His friend was acting like they were all going to die in roughly one second.

"Blaise? What's going on?"

Blaise wheeled around to face Draco. "My files are on the kitchen table."

Draco's jaw dropped in shock. That… that meant…

"I can hear you two gossiping on the stairs," Hermione's voice wafted to them from the kitchen, threateningly sweet. "You better come down here _now_. You have a bit of explaining to do."

* * *

**AN: **

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	21. Pain

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty – Pain**

"Hermione, we can explain," Blaise mumbled, his eyes downcast.

He and Draco had summoned their courage to face the irate witch in their kitchen. Hermione's bushy brown hair seemed to be crackling with anger.

"Oh, you better explain," Hermione snapped. "What the _hell_ is a file with _my_ details on it doing _here_?"

"Hermione, please," Blaise pleaded. "Hear us out before you jump into any conclusions, okay?"

Hermione's expression did not waver. "You have exactly sixty seconds."

Neither Blaise nor Draco knew why they were so desperate for her to understand, or for her to listen to their side of the story. After all, it would have been so much easier for them to kill her right then and there. There would be no questions, and Snape would finally shut up.

They both knew that the likelihood of her sticking around after hearing their story would be slim, but they still wanted to give it a shot. Problem was, where to start?

Blaise felt it began with Voldemort; most, if not all, stories did. His right hand twitched towards his left forearm, then decided that it would probably not be wise to begin by showing Hermione his brand, but it was too late.

Hermione's face paled as she caught the reflex reaction.

"Oh, _hell_ no," she whispered. Her eyes flickered from Blaise to Draco, begging one or both of them to contradict her, to interject in and reassure her by saying she was just imagining things, but neither did.

There was no sound but her rapid breathing.

"You… you're…" Hermione swallowed, before shrieking at the top of her lungs, "You're _Death Eaters_?"

Hermione clutched her head, trying to control the dizzying feeling that she was being sucked down a black vortex. Everything was starting to look hazy and the ground seemed so far away, and yet she felt like she was falling.

She had some inkling that the boys would be Death Eaters; after all, their parents—heck, the entire extended _family—_were notorious for being proud members and/or supporters of the Death Eaters of Lord Voldemort.

The Death Eaters were the evil warriors of Lord Voldemort; most had been willing to give their lives in service for their Lord. When their Dark Lord fell at the hands of The Chosen One (a.k.a. Harry Potter), the remaining Death Eaters and their supporters went underground to become spies and assassins.

Hermione tried to keep the fragile pieces of her mind together, but she was failing miserably. First, it was her disappointment with her relationship with Ron. Then it was the horror of the men from the alleyway. Then her relationship with Ron fouled. At the bottom of all her problems, she had found Draco still there for her.

And now, when she found that the person who had seemed to be her safe rock, her mental harbour, had betrayed her, too… She felt like she was hanging on to a hair that was her sanity.

"You…"

Hermione hated it how she was becoming incoherent. She didn't want to be weak—she was _sick_ of being weak, of everyone inquiring of her health, physically, mentally and emotionally. But everything seemed to keep hitting her until they only left tatters of her former self.

"You…"

She didn't even know why she felt so much pain. Draco Malfoy, and, in essence, Blaise Zabini, had bullied her throughout her school years. Why did she suddenly feel like a _friend_ was betraying her? Had her short relationship with Draco Malfoy really turned from arch-enemy into friend?

"You… _betrayed_… me?"

Why was she surprised that Draco Malfoy ended doing something like this to her? She should have seen it coming! After all, it was Draco Malfoy who led the original Death Eaters to attack Hogwarts, it was Draco Malfoy who had threatened the lives of many of her friends. Goodness, with the newest revelation that Draco Malfoy worked for the Death Eaters, he might even have _killed_ some of her friends.

"How… _could _you?"

How could she have been so blind? She was the smartest witch of her age, but it proved that there was a chink in her mental armour. All an enemy had to do was worm their way into her mind by pretending to be their friend, and bada-bing, bada-boom, Hermione Granger was their newest best friend!

"I… _trusted_ you…"

What was wrong with her? Maybe the men from the alley, and then again later, their leader, had been set up by Draco Malfoy. All they had to do was harass her, let the conniving ferret show up with a gun, save the damsel in distress, and… _look_, it's Prince Charming!

"… but you _betrayed_ me…"

Hermione cursed herself for her stupidity.

"I thought you were my friends."

Stumbling, half blind by the tears and the pain, she made her way to the lounge, and hopefully out to the front door.

She felt a stone cold hand pull on her arm, but she yanked it back, with a loud, "Don't you _DARE_ touch me, Draco Malfoy!"

She heard Draco grunt, and Blaise whining something or other, but before she could so much as try to comprehend what was going on, she felt both of her arms being pulled behind her back, and another hand clamping down on her mouth.

She struggled to get free, but the pain had made her weak. Where was the strength she had used to slap Malfoy in their third year? Where was her Gryffindor courage now?

"Don't struggle, Granger," Malfoy hissed in her ear. "You'll make everything all the more complicated."

She was being dragged back, and no matter how strong she fought, she couldn't evade the strong, cold arms that she had grown to trust.

"Trust me, we don't want to kill you," Blaise added. "But we can't let you go away without hearing our side."

* * *

**AN: **

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	22. Excuses, Explanations

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One – Excuses, Explanations**

Draco hated binding Hermione's thin arms to one of the chairs in the basement, and he hated it even more when he had to cover Hermione's mouth with a cloth, but he had no choice.

He was in too deep now, and he wanted her to listen and understand before choosing what to do and what not to do.

He sat down directly in front of her, across the small square table, while Blaise sat on his right. They both stared at her ruefully. They had no choice.

"Look," Draco began, "we're sorry that we have to do this. No, believe me," he added, when Hermione made a disbelieving noise, "True, we are Death Eaters, but have you thought about our choice in this matter?"

Draco pulled up the black sleeve that hid his left arm, and Hermione widened her eyes in shock and disgust. There, on his left forearm, was Lord Voldemort's brand, the Dark Mark. It was a smoky black tattoo of a skull with a snake as a tongue coming out of it and entwining itself into some sort of intimidating knot.

Draco tugged the sleeve back down after gazing at it for a couple of seconds with sheer disgust twisting his mouth. His eyes travelled up to meet Hermione's.

"I'm a Death Eater because my parents were," he said. "Voldemort gave me a task I had to complete. I admit, I was foolish and proud when I was younger. Today, there is nothing I regret more than becoming marked as _his_."

Draco's face twisted again, before he continued. "I am the youngest of the original Death Eaters—those who had been branded by Voldemort himself. You see, Blaise along with a few others were branded by Severus Snape."

Hermione recoiled at the sound of her old teacher, who was apparently a spy himself for Voldemort. She tried to say something witty, but the cloth muffled it. Blaise reached a long arm and tugged it down for a second.

She glared at them both, before repeating, "I can see where you two get your excellent training from."

Blaise scowled at her, before pulling the cloth back up. Apparently, it was a wrong decision of his to allow her to talk.

Draco cleared his throat, successfully reclaiming the attention of Hermione and Blaise, and continued with his story. "You guessed right; Snape is our… mentor, in a way."

Hermione snorted at that. Snape, mentor? It was like trying to imagine his greasy hair being shampooed clean. He was probably forcing them to complete their jobs with threats every other day.

Then she caught herself. This was Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini they were talking about. Malfoy admitted it himself; he was proud of being a Death Eater. Why would they need to be forced to complete their assassinations?

Draco closed his eyes wearily. "Look, Granger, you have to listen to our side. Okay, fine, I admit, I enjoyed being a Death Eater. I enjoyed the power I held over my targets. At first, I was excited at the prospect of trying my hand at destroying one of the Golden Trio."

Draco opened his eyes and stared at her through hooded lids. "I wanted to redeem myself, to set myself a task that other Death Eaters had not managed to complete."

Hermione began to hyperventilate. This was the part where he pulled out a gun and shot it at her head.

Instead, Draco dropped his head. "_At first_. That all stopped when I met my target."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Even Blaise had stiffened. He didn't know his friend was going to admit to this, so soon. Draco looked up to find them both staring at him, and his feathers instantly ruffled.

Malfoys do not show emotion.

"Anyway, point was," he said, albeit a little too loudly, "I no longer felt up to the task that Snape had sent me. I couldn't hurt her—you—her… my target."

Draco blushed a little, before turning away, his back ramrod straight. No way was he about to admit he had feelings for Granger, not now when she would be determined to push him away.

"He's right, Hermione." Blaise took up the mantle of trying to explain things to the girl in front of him. "We decided to look up something that might help us hide you away, or keep all of this hidden from Snape last night. The files you saw upstairs… I was going through them to find something… some little loophole…"

"And he found one… although it is a bit of a puzzle…" Draco added.

Hermione's eyes darted from one to the other, waiting for the bomb.

Blaise took a deep breath, and said, "You don't have to die."

Draco frowned at his friend's choice of words. "Technically, it's '_We_ don't have to kill you'."

Blaise waved a nonchalant hand. "Whichever."

The same hand reached out to pull the cloth covering Hermione's mouth again.

"What does he want me alive for?" Hermione spat. "Torturing and questioning?"

Blaise scowled, twice regretting letting Hermione talk that night.

"We don't know yet, Granger," Draco smoothly interrupted. "I mean, what can you possibly have answers to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Maybe Harry? Some sort of hidden weapon? The codes for Azkaban, to unlock the imprisoned Death Eaters?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Do you know the answers to those?"

"No!" Hermione said angrily. "It was just examples to what he _might_ think I know."

"Look, Hermione," Draco said, noticing he went back to using her first name. "We trust you to keep this information from _everyone_. You hear me? _Everyone_. That includes The Boy Who Scored and his Weasel King—I mean, Potter and Weasley. If anyone so much as hears about this, _all_ of our heads will be on the line."

Hermione flicked her hair over her shoulder with one lazy head spasm. The look on her face reminded Draco of Weaselette. Those two were so alike, they were starting to mirror each other's expressions.

"I wouldn't mind dying so much," Hermione drawled, and Draco was suddenly reminded of everything that had been happening to her life so far. He flinched, but she pretended not to notice, and continued, "As long as I bring _some_ Death Eaters with me."

Draco scowled. "But if you think about it, two Death Eaters is hardly a loss in comparison to the Golden Trio and its entire family. We don't leave witnesses to our presence, Granger. Everyone who knew we existed will be gone. You'll all have died by some sort of freak accident; natural disasters, vehicle crashes, diseases… trust me on _that_ one, at least. We don't leave loose ends."

Hermione stared at Draco, seeming to comprehend the truth in his words. She narrowed her eyes at him, before conceding.

"Fine, Draco Malfoy, for the sake of my family, I'll keep shut. But you _better_ find a way out for all of us."

* * *

**AN:**

I know it's been a while, but I don't know... I've just lost the inspiration to keep posting. I've received less and less response for this fic.**  
**

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	23. Perverse Reality

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two – Perverse Reality**

"Herm," Ginny interrupted Hermione's mental grumbles. "Did you want to go shopping?"

Hermione stared at her friend incredulously. Ginny wanted to go shopping when they and the family were being watched by Death Eaters?

Then she mentally shook herself. Of course Ginny didn't know about Malfoy and Zabini. Hermione had promised to keep her mouth shut. Still, she felt incredibly paranoid and upset.

After the Death Eaters' confessions, she was convinced that every single random person around her was set up to kill her. She couldn't stand walking around shopping, especially in a mall, where she had to scrutinise each of the thousands of people for possible weapons or suspicious activity.

Hermione closed her eyes and clutched her head, trying to get rid of the headache by simply pulling it out of her brain.

"Herm?" She felt Ginny's soft hand on her arm. "We don't have to go, if you don't want to."

Hermione shook her head, before she stood up, sighing. "Gin, I'll be right back. I need some medicine."

Ginny looked at her worriedly. "Did you want me to get it for you?"

"Thanks, but I think I could go for a little walk."

Ginny nodded, and let her friend out of the living room and to the kitchen. She glanced around the pale grey walls around her with distaste. She really didn't like having Hermione here, but the Weasley home was out of the question at the moment. Ginny knew that Hermione would be upset at all the reminders.

Hermione walked towards the kitchen, one hand softly pounding her head. She reached for the medicine cabinet, pulled down a box of headache pills, and opened it. She hissed in pain as her head throbbed.

Her hand was caught by another hand, colder than hers, before it impacted with her skull again.

Hermione closed her eyes as the cold hand was joined by its pair, and they began to massage her forehead.

"How many times have I told you to tell me when you're in _my_ house?" she asked softly, not opening her eyes.

There was a chuckle. "You were talking with the Weaselette. I couldn't let _her_ know that I was in, in case she thought I was some sort of perverted stalker."

Hermione's eyes flew open at the last word. She pushed the cold hands from her forehead, attempted to stifle the gasp as the pain returned, and grabbed the pills.

"You _are_ a stalker," she snapped, before reaching a hand towards the drawer that held the cups.

A long pale arm beat her to it, pushing a glass into her hand before she realised it.

She wheeled around. "I don't need your help! I am perfectly capable of opening a goddamn drawer and taking out a blasted cup!"

She swatted the proffered cup out of his hand, and it landed on the tiled kitchen floor with a loud bang, before shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Herm?" Ginny's concerned voice floated from the living room. "Are you alright?"

Hermione grimaced, seeming to have forgotten Ginny. "I'm fine. I just… slipped and dropped a glass."

Hermione stiffened as she heard Ginny's footsteps coming from the living room. "Quick," she hissed at the man, "hide."

He stared at her bemusedly, before stealing into the open pantry. Although it was like a normal floor-to-ceiling closet in the corner of the kitchen, it was designed mainly for storage, and the items inside did _not_ enjoy having to share their limited space with a six-foot Death Eater.

"I don't even see why I _have_ to," he whined in a whisper as Hermione pulled the door close in front of him.

"Shut it," she hissed, before slamming the door shut.

Hermione turned back to the drawer and pulled out a new cup, determined to drink the medicine already. She was pushing the cup under the water dispenser as Ginny came into the kitchen.

Ginny eyed the broken glass, before walking towards the kettle to turn it on. She heard a small shuffle beside her, and she turned to gaze thoughtfully at the pantry. She heard Hermione choke and splutter as she drank the water a little too fast.

Ginny heard it again, the small shuffle from the pantry. Ignoring it, she turned to Hermione, and asked, "You okay, Herm?"

"Mm, yeah," Hermione said, recovered from her small coughing fit.

Ginny turned to the pantry to get the teabags when Hermione said loudly, "Gin? What were you looking for?"

"The tea bags," she answered, and she reached her hand towards the door knob.

Before her hand could so much as touch it, Hermione ran towards her. She pushed the box of ginger tea in her hands.

Ginny eyed the box suspiciously, before looking at Hermione, wondering what was going on.

"Herm? Ah… I don't really like ginger tea."

Hermione shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but Ginny knew something was up. Her eyes were wild.

"That's the only flavour I have here," Hermione said.

Ginny shook her head. Hermione was hardly ever in her own flat, she seriously needed to stock up in supplies.

"This is why we need to go shopping, Herm," Ginny said. "You don't even have _tea_ in here."

Ginny moved back towards the kettle, which was whistling, and she heard Hermione breathe a small sigh of relief. She pretended not to hear it, and poured the water in a mug. She pulled a small jar of coffee beans towards her, dipped the teaspoon in, scooped a little out, and dumped it into the water.

She was reaching for the sugar when Hermione said, "Okay, I'll go shopping with you, Gin. Just not at the mall, 'kay? Why not something like a grocer's?"

Ginny shrugged as she piled the sugar into the coffee. "Sure, no problem. Anything to get you out of this flat."

Ginny sat down at the table and blew on her coffee as Hermione walked out of the kitchen, towards the living room, and waited until she heard her brunette friend walk up the stairs.

Not looking up from her coffee, she said, "Okay, out you come. I know you're there."

* * *

**AN:**

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	24. Uncovered Secrets

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three – Uncovered Secrets  
**

Draco froze in the pantry. The Weaselette knew he was here?

"Come on," Ginny's voice said. "I'm sure you'll look incredibly ridiculous if I pulled that door open to find you squashed on the cans."

Draco winced as he came up with the mental image. The redhead was right. Heaving a small sigh, he pulled the door aside and stepped out. Weaselette didn't even look up from her coffee as Draco pulled the door shut behind him.

"Ha," she said, "How did you manage not to piss her off?"

Draco picked his way carefully across the broken-glass-strewn kitchen floor. "I didn't."

Weaselette laughed. "She throw the cup at you?"

"Stung like hell."

She grinned as she blew on her coffee, before taking a sip. Draco eyed her distastefully. He would never have predicted that one day he'd share a table with a Weasley and be civil.

"How'd you know I was there?" he demanded.

"Little signs," she shrugged. "I heard you shuffling around when you sensed me coming, and then again when you heard Hermione choking. You thought she was in danger, didn't you?"

Draco stiffened again. No one knew anything about how he thought. "What makes you say that?"

Instead of sending her into the defensive like he had planned, the Weaselette laughed. Draco glared at her, affronted.

"Spending the last few days with her, protecting her from… things… I knew you'd feel protective of her."

Draco continued his glare, his feathers ruffled. Malfoys do not show emotion. Well, _should_ not. The redheaded girl ignored his offended look and continued trying to cool her coffee. That continued for a minute, until she asked, "Are you coming with us shopping?"

"What does it seem like?"

"I'd guess that's a yes," she remarked. "But Hermione won't know, will she?"

"Never thought I'd say this, but yes, you're right."

She stared into her coffee, thinking. "Can I ask why?"

"No."

The redhead cracked a maddening smirk, before asking, "Okay then. Why are you coming?"

Draco glared at her, then out the window. He mulled over the answer. He couldn't very well tell Weaselette, could he?

What was wrong with telling her, though? Draco knew he could trust her with anything related with Hermione's health and well-being. And besides, she might be able to help her go out and enjoy, instead of moping around the house.

Still, Draco was uncomfortable with anyone else knowing his and Blaise's secret. No one was supposed to know. They were spies for a reason.

In the end of his little internal debate, Hermione's needs won out.

"Can I tell you something you _swear your life_ not to breathe a _word_ to anyone?"

Weaselette glanced up from her coffee, surprised and instantly suspicious. "What?"

"Promise to hear me out, no matter how it sounds like at the beginning."

Weaselette narrowed her eyes. "Fine. But if I don't like the sound of it, Malfoy, you better watch out."

Draco suppressed a smirk as he absentmindedly ran a finger down the handle of the Glock in its holster. He leaned his head forward, and wasn't surprised when the redhead pulled back, disgust on her face.

"I'm a Death Eater."

His grey eyes watched her face, scrutinising her reaction. Her eyes widened a little, and her lips turned down at the corners, but for the life of him, she looked simply pained.

"I knew you were different," she said, putting the mug of coffee down on the table and crossing her arms to keep herself warm. "But not _that_ different."

"What do you mean, you _knew_ I was different?" he demanded, irked.

She stared at him like he was crazy. "Come on, Malfoy. You've hated her since you were in school, and then all of a sudden, you're back in her life as a friend. You can't honestly believe I was fooled."

She closed her eyes, pain on her face. "I knew there was something wrong, but Hermione depended on you, so I had to tag along with her. Make sure she was safe. I knew something was going on."

"And _how_, may I ask, were you planning to fight a Death Eater if it came to that?"

She opened her eyes, and Draco felt a little trepidation at the look of malice in her eyes.

"I'm not about to spill trade secrets," she smirked.

"Pah."

She picked up the mug again, and took a tentative sip. "Go on about this secret I'm keeping from everyone."

Draco studied her again. "You don't seem shocked by my little confession. Has it gone through your brain that I could easily be targeting your boyfriend or your brother?"

Again, she didn't look up from her coffee when she answered. "It has, but if you really wanted to get to them, I'd bet you'd have gone to them first, grovelling about the past."

Draco leaned away from her, offended. "Malfoys don't grovel."

She smirked as she looked up. "But Malfoys hide," she said as they heard Hermione's steps descend the stairs.

He glared at the redhead, but said, "They do. For a good reason."

Weaselette chuckled under her breath. "Self preservation."

Draco sniffed in disdain as he got up from the table. He said, "We'll talk later. But know this. I know I'm on the bad side, but I'm protecting her. Trust me. Don't freak out."

He was closing the door over the pantry when the redhead had her last words, her eyes flashing.

"I know you'll protect her, Malfoy. You better protect her good, or I swear to god, I'll tell Harry about your secret."

* * *

**AN:**

Maybe I should take a leaf out of my friends' books and say, "**No favourites without a review, please.**" Honestly. It's very discouraging to have received _one single_ review for three chapters in two weeks. Oh, I've had the alerts, the faves, but just _one_ review. One _single_ review.

[/end rant]

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	25. Shopping As It Is

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four – Shopping As It Is**

Ginny reached out an arm to stop Hermione from picking up one of the red supermarket baskets.

"Herm," she said strictly. "We are going shopping for your flat. I'd reckon you'd need trolleys."

"Hey! What's with the plural?" Hermione whined, but nevertheless dropped the supermarket basket and headed towards the trolleys instead.

She didn't notice the man with a black coat, black pants, and big dark sunglasses to hide his face. His blonde hair was covered by a black hat. He was watching them with his head turned another way; the glasses helped a lot. He proceeded to pick up a basket and followed them at a discreet distance.

Hermione, being too busy being chided by Ginny to pick up as much stuff as possible, never noticed the man. Ginny, however, became instantly suspicious by the man, and knew they either had a stalker, or it was Draco Malfoy.

"But Gin," Hermione's voice broke through Ginny's reverie, "I don't even _like_ chocolate biscuits! They're too fatty. What about these seaweed crackers—"

"Why don't you get both?" Ginny smirked. "Once you have enough stuff in the house, I might come over more."

Ginny would have. She had an idea that the flat would once again become like a prison to Hermione, and she didn't want her friend to suffer, with possibly only the Slytherin Ferret for company.

And besides, no matter what Malfoy might have implied about being on the good side now, there was always the risk that he was lying. After all, he was a Death Eater. He would be an expert at manipulation and lies.

Ginny and Hermione proceeded to walk down the aisles, putting more and more into the trolley. Hermione felt like she was shopping for a family of five instead of just for herself and Ginny.

They bypassed the fresh produce section with only a few purchases, instead opting for canned and frozen goods. They stopped at the bakery, debating on whether or not to get cheese rolls or cheese and bacon rolls. In the end, Ginny once again pulled on the 'Just get both', and that effectively stopped their argument.

They picked up instant noodles and soup-in-a-cup. It was while Hermione was arguing with Ginny again about the flavour of the soup-in-a-cup that she was distracted by the man over Ginny's shoulder.

He looked awfully familiar, and the way he stretched out his arm stirred memories in her mind. Was he a friend of theirs from Hogwarts? Was he a co-worker? Who was he?

Ginny wheeled around to see who Hermione was staring at so intently, and her eyes landed smack dab on Draco Malfoy.

Draco, who was choosing which noodle flavours Blaise would want, noticed that Hermione and Ginny were staring at him. He peeked a glance at them, but only Ginny had the look of comprehension on her face; Hermione just looked downright confused.

He didn't want Hermione to know that he was following her around. He knew she wouldn't believe him if he said he was following her around because he was afraid for her physical and mental health. He was afraid of who might try and get her when he wasn't there, and he was afraid that she might break down due to some reason.

He pulled two chicken noodles from the shelf and placed them into the basket, a frown on his face. He turned his back on them and looked from the right shelf, then to the left shelf, and back again, trying to get Ginny to understand he didn't want to be known.

Thankfully, Ginny seemed to understand. He heard her say, "Come on, Herm, just get one of each and we'll try them."

He heard a small thump of cardboard on steel as Hermione dropped several small boxes of soup-in-a-cup and the wheels squeaking on the linoleum floor as Ginny pushed the trolley away.

He heaved a sigh of relief, and pulled out his phone. He knew Hermione would be a little suspicious if she saw him following them again. Considering the state of mind that she was in, he wouldn't be surprised if she saw him as the leader of the Death Eaters or something.

Blaise picked up on the second ring. "Draco?"

"Blaise," Draco said. "Change of plans. You need to be in, I need to be out."

"Why?"

"Hermione noticed me. I don't think she knew who I was, but it would be suspicious if she saw me again. So you're in."

There was a pause. "Losing your touch, Draco?" he teased. He laughed when Draco hissed into the phone. "Okay, I'll be there in a sec."

Draco hung up and pushed his phone into his pocket. He had just decided to add two more chicken noodles to the pile when Blaise came up next to him.

Blaise had gone through more of a disguise than Draco. His normal curly dark brown hair was straightened, and he had cut it in front of his face to form a fringe. He just had his left ear pierced, and it was now sporting a chunky silver square hoop. He had on a light blue, long sleeved shirt under a dark blue short sleeved shirt. He had on a pair of blue denim jeans and trainers.

He looked so far from his Death Eater look and persona—gone was the cold-heartedness of the Death Eater attire; instead he looked so… _normal_. He looked like he belonged in the normal world.

Draco instantly clapped his shoulder, pointed in a vague direction of where they had gone, and proceeded to walk out of the grocer's. He stopped outside, and sat on a bench, keeping his eyes peeled for any suspicious activities both inside and outside the store.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Ginny and Hermione walked out an hour later, their trolley loaded with shopping bags. He stiffened slightly when Ginny shot him a glance, but Hermione ignored him. Proceeding to unload the stuff into the boot of the Celica, Hermione laughed at some joke Ginny muttered to her.

Draco stood up to meet Blaise as he came out with his hands carrying about ten shopping bags.

"You owe me a _lot_ of money," Blaise hissed at Draco as his friend helped to put the plastic bags in the boot.

Draco snickered. "I know."

Blaise made a pained face. "Seriously, Draco. Do you know how to shop? You just _had_ to pick every flavour of milk there was. Are you going to drink them all?"

Draco shrugged. "The fridge was empty."

Blaise smacked his forehead as he walked back to the driver's side.

* * *

**AN:**

See, the more reviews, the faster I update, non?

Thanks for the reviews =]

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	26. Feelings And Emotions

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five – Feelings and Emotions**

"Thanks so much, Ginny," Hermione said as Ginny was walking towards the driver's door of her red Honda.

Ginny had spent the afternoon helping Hermione store the stuff they had bought. Hermione knew Draco would have gone by the time she came back, so had no qualms about Ginny opening the pantry to store more stuff into it.

Ginny had declined Hermione's invite of dinner, promising to come tomorrow instead. She and Harry were planning to eat out to celebrate their three-year anniversary.

So Hermione walked back into the kitchen when Ginny had pulled out of the garage and screeched away with a honk and a wave. She pulled a pot of water on to the stove and was about to boil it when she heard the doorbell.

Traipsing back to the front door, she opened it to find none other than Draco Malfoy.

"You said I had to let you know I was in your house, so here I am," he drawled.

His clothes reminded Hermione of the man she had seen while she was shopping that afternoon with Ginny. Realisation dawned on her.

With a huff, she stalked away from him towards the kitchen.

"Hermione?"

She heard the front door close, and decided she had had just about enough with Draco Malfoy, the bouncing ferret who had no respect for her privacy. She wheeled around, and fury was clear on her face.

"You stalked me shopping, didn't you?" she hissed.

"What?"

"Don't try to deny it!"

She stomped back towards him, and pushed her face into his. He looked slightly afraid.

"I _told_ you! I don't want you stalking me! It feels creepy, seeing your face everywhere I go. I can look after myself."

She crossed her arms and was about to walk back into the kitchen when Draco reached out to grab her shoulders. He turned her around, and with both hands, gripped her upper arms.

"And don't _you_ see?" he shouted. "I'm only doing this to keep _you_ safe!"

Hermione's crossed arms fell limply to her sides as she watched Draco in shock. His eyes were positively burning with the need for her to understand his point of view. His entire face had two primary emotions on it; determination and hurt. He seemed hurt that Hermione couldn't understand why he was protecting her.

"I'm only doing this for _you_," he reiterated, his voice strong, shaking her slightly as he tried to get her to understand.

His grip on her arms had turned painful, and she cried out at the pain. "Draco, you're hurting me!"

Draco's face turned shocked, guilty, and pained. Without another word, he crushed her to his chest, his arms around her waist instead.

"Oh gods," he whimpered. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry."

She began crying into his chest, and he stroked her hair, all the time mumbling his sorry. Draco's heart almost broke when he realised that this time, she was crying because of him. He never wanted her to cry for him again.

The feeling in him threatened to overwhelm him, and he knew of only one release to it. Keeping his left arm around her waist, he pulled her face back and cupped it with his right hand.

She was still so beautiful, even with the tear streaks down her face. Again, Draco felt the emotion in him building up, and without another word, he bent his head down and kissed her.

Her lips were full and soft, and they trembled a little as they felt the force Draco had. But he didn't use it. It was only a gentle kiss, to reassure her, to apologise to her, to show some of his feelings for her.

He knew she wouldn't appreciate it if he went too far. He pulled away, and contented himself with staring into her eyes.

After a minute or two, Hermione blinked and looked down, suddenly shy. She proceeded to walk towards the kitchen to gather her thoughts and begin making dinner. She turned the stove on, and tapped her finger on the table top.

She pulled dry pasta and pasta sauce from her pantry, and opened the black pepper packaging. She also opened the fridge and retrieved the shredded mozzarella cheese.

Five minutes later, she dropped the pasta into the boiling water. She ignored the stare she knew was burning a hole into her back.

"Did you want to eat here?" she asked ten minutes later, when she had drained the pasta and had finished her sauce.

"If that's okay with you," he said, the shrug clear in his voice. "Do you mind if we invite Blaise? He's been wanting to see the inside of your house for a while."

Hermione nodded, busily stirring the sauce. There was silence behind her for two minutes, and she was about to wonder when he was going to call Blaise, when all of a sudden, a pair of cold arms coiled around her waist from behind.

She almost dropped the pan of pasta sauce.

She placed it carefully back on to the stove, before turning around to scold Draco. He had a smirk on his face.

"Do you _mind_?" she hissed.

"Mind what?" Draco asked, the smirk still there as he stared into her eyes.

He pulled one hand up to touch her face again, when she batted it away. Draco's smirk grew wider. With his free hand, he tucked both of her small wrists aside, and again reached up a hand. She had an angry, 'I-dare-you' look on her face, but it disappeared when Draco's hand came into contact with her face. She closed her eyes lazily and leaned her head on his comforting palm.

Draco was fascinated. He never knew that she would show contentment, and he was glad that it was he that brought it to her face. He could watch her face like that forever.

Of course, their moment was ruined by the doorbell.

Both of them sighed as Draco dropped his hand from her face. She opened her eyes, and stared into his own blue-grey ones. Slowly, a wicked grin began to appear.

"Saved by the doorbell," she smirked at him.

Draco stared after her, flabbergasted at her teasing. Why, that little…

* * *

**AN:**

**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
**


	27. A New Beginning

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six – A New Beginning**

"Hey, Herm," Ginny said as her friend opened the door. "I invited Harry, but he couldn't come…"

Her voice faltered as she saw who was behind Hermione. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"… which is probably good. I don't think he could go through dinner with the Slytherin Ferret at the same table," Ginny continued matter-of-factly.

Hermione laughed, while Draco scowled at her. "Come in, Gin. Ignore the ferret."

Draco let out a small huff, and made his way back to the kitchen. Ginny grabbed Hermione to pause her in her tracks.

"Herm!" Ginny shouted in a whisper. "What is _he_ doing here?"

Hermione looked at her friend, a little guilty. "He's my friend. I invited him here. I thought it'd be nice for he and Harry to get to know each other a little."

Ginny eyed her best friend. She had known Hermione long enough to know when she was hiding something. She raised one eyebrow suggestively, letting the question she was dying to ask appear on her face instead.

Hermione blushed. "Gin. Please. He's the Slytherin Ferret. As if."

Ginny's eyebrow rose.

Hermione blushed darker. "Okay, fine. So what? A little?"

Ginny's other eyebrow joined its twin. "Seriously, Herm. A little? That's it? You've got to be joking."

"What do you want me to say?" Hermione demanded, still whispering. "We shagged all night long, and now I love him?"

"You shagged him all night long?" Ginny shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Hermione shushed her furiously. Draco's blonde head poked out of the living room, his face mightily curious, with a little devious grin.

"Who did Hermione shag all night long?" he asked.

"Apparently, you?" Ginny turned to him with a look of strong curiosity.

"NO!" Hermione and Draco shouted at the same time.

"Not that I wouldn't want to, though," Draco added, his grin turning wicked.

Ginny's mouth dropped open, and Hermione blushed scarlet. "Oh, go away, you ferret. Set up dinner or something. Just stay out of my sight."

Draco pulled his six-foot frame right in front of them, before bowing and saying, "Yes, ma'am," then marching off to the kitchen.

Hermione turned to Ginny, who was still staring at the spot where Draco was just standing in. "I'm being serious, Gin. There's nothing going on between us."

"Yet," Ginny said. "If there was nothing going on, how could you two be so _teasing_ about innuendos like that?"

Hermione shrugged as she walked towards the kitchen. "It's… just…. well…"

Ginny heaved a sigh. She had an inkling that part of Hermione's reason to being comfortable with a boy who had agonised her for six years had something to do with Draco Malfoy's secret. "Herm, I know he's a Death Eater."

Hermione wheeled around at Ginny's confession. "How? When?"

"He told me yesterday," Ginny admitted. "I caught him in the pantry, and told him to come out, and we had a little chat."

"And?" Hermione demanded.

"And he told me."

Hermione then realised another thing. "You knew him when we went shopping. You saw him. _You_ pulled me away!"

Ginny nodded. "He didn't want you to notice him."

Hermione felt betrayed. "You—"

"Herm, please," Ginny begged. "He just wanted to protect you."

"Do you even _know_ the whole story?" Hermione demanded.

Ginny shook her head no. She opened her mouth, but Hermione beat her to it.

"He and Blaise were sent out to kill _me_."

Ginny closed her eyes as the full scale of their danger sank in.

_Promise to hear me out, no matter how it sounds like in the beginning… I know I'm on the bad side now, but I'm here to protect her. Trust me._

Draco Malfoy's voice sounded in her voice as she pieced the puzzle together.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were sent out to destroy her best friend. Somehow, the tables turned—and here, Ginny drew a blank—they told Hermione about who they were. But instead, they chose to protect her instead of killing her, because of her knowledge.

That meant Malfoy and Zabini must have felt something for her. Oh, gods. This was more complicated than she could have ever comprehended.

So that was why Malfoy stayed around as much as possible. Why Hermione was always with him; because he was protecting her. Ginny had a sudden, nagging suspicion. Zabini must be somewhere out there, protecting her house from the outside.

Her mind flashed to the dark Nissan GT-R parked outside the next flat. She had an inkling that was Zabini's car.

Oh, great. She knew now what Hermione had trouble explaining, about how and why she'd start to develop feelings for Malfoy.

First, Malfoy was there for her when things between her and Ron ended.

Second, Malfoy was always there for her to protect her. He had saved her life a couple of times now.

Third, Malfoy was always around. To protect her. He was in her house to protect her from inside, he followed her everywhere, until and unless Zabini covered her.

"Gods," Ginny whispered. "So _that's_ why you fell for Malfoy."

"Excuse me?" Hermione screeched. "I don't _fall in love_, especially not with my would-be-murderers."

"No, no," Ginny said. "You've grown to depend on him, haven't you? Him always being around to protect you has made you get used to him, and become closer to him."

Hermione flushed, and Ginny took that as confirmation. Gods, this was _much_ more complicated than she would have thought.

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt your suggestive tête-à-tête," they heard Malfoy's cool voice from the kitchen call out. "But your dinner is served."

* * *

**AN:**

Once again, thanks to my gorgeous reviewers =]

Even if you're an unregistered reader like **HP Fan**, I'd still love to hear your thoughts.

I now have an album with pictures of how _I imagined_ them. If they're not how you imagined them, please respect mine, and don't flame, please. We're all entitled to our own opinions.

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**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	28. Slow Acceptance

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven – Slow Acceptance**

"Hey, Hermione," Harry smiled. "Glad you could make it to dinner… although what Malfoy's doing here escapes me."

Hermione laughed at the look of incredulity on Harry's face. "Now, now, Harry," she chided gently. "He's a guest as well. I invited him."

Harry was shocked, and a little cautious. Since when had Hermione been friends with Malfoy, of all people?

"Potter," Malfoy nodded his head at him.

Harry scowled. He did _not_ like having the Slytherin Ferret in his house. Harry stepped aside to let Hermione in to his house, but paused the Ferret in his tracks. He did not miss the look he sent Hermione. It was possessive, as if he was afraid to have Hermione out of his sight.

Harry was liking this less and less. Sure, he had been grateful that night when he last saw Malfoy, but he never expected that Malfoy would _stay_.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "You will behave in my house, or else I'll kick you out."

The man on the steps rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyes, before letting the platinum-blonde walk into his house and follow Hermione, who had paused by the stairs, waiting for him.

Still mightily suspicious, he followed the pair to the kitchen, where Ginny was waiting, with the chicken curry waiting to be served.

Draco pulled out Hermione's chair, and gestured for her to be seated. Blushing yet rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down.

"Did you need me to curtsey, my lord?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Harry's lips pressed down firmly as he tried to control the chuckle erupting in him, but Draco guffawed, and Ginny laughed outright.

"That is fine, my lady," Draco quipped back.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. Harry caught the look of contentment on her face. She had never looked like that when she and Malfoy were bantering back and forth in school. Then, she looked downright pained. Now, she looked confident and happy.

As if she and Malfoy were actually _friends_.

Harry did _not_ like where this was going.

Because the square table was fairly small (they were eating in the kitchen rather than at the larger formal dining room), they had to wait for each other to finish choosing food from the platters, then pass it around.

Hermione had grabbed the rice first, while Ginny had the curry, Harry had the fried battered-cauliflowers, and Draco had the salad. When Hermione passed the rice to Ginny, who passed the curry to Harry, who attempted to pass the fries to Malfoy, Malfoy had no idea what was going on, and was about to set it down on to the table. He cottoned on quickly enough though, and received the next dish from Harry (curry), he was able to pass it on to Hermione without much awkward smirking.

When they finally began eating, conversations began politely enough.

"So, Malfoy," Harry said. "Where is it you work now?"

Draco kept his eyes on his food as he answered. "A company called Scavenger Industries. It's very much like a job agency; we get sent checklists for potential employees, and we look through our database and contacts to see if we can find an employee that fits their description."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. It was an innocent enough job. Draco steered the conversation away from him.

"When are you to be married, Potter?"

Harry turned to look at Ginny, and he held her hand on the table lovingly. "We're getting married in just under three weeks."

"Have you got everything worked out?" Hermione asked Ginny excitedly.

Draco tried not to snort. What was it about weddings that made all women excited for it?

Ginny nodded, a wide smile on her face. "We've got the flowers, the caterer's, the church—everything! The dresses came in yesterday, and the suits for the groom and…"

At this, Ginny faltered, her eyes quickly flying up to see Hermione's face. The brunette was frozen, her eyes flashing back down to her plate as she tried to stop the tears from escaping.

Draco knew what was making Hermione so upset. Red Potter was about to say, "and the Best Man", who had been Ron Weasley. Draco wondered who their Best Man would be now.

"Herm?" Harry asked worriedly.

Hermione shook her head, trying to indicate that she was fine, and she just needed a second.

Ginny attempted to lighten up the mood by suggesting something outrageous. "Hey. Why doesn't Malfoy be the Best Man?"

Blank silence answered her words. Harry seemed to be staring at his fiancée with something akin to horror, Malfoy was just plain shocked, and Hermione looked… well, pleasantly surprised.

"What?" Ginny asked, an evil smirk gracing her face. "This could be payback for all the torture he put us through in school."

"Trust me, Weaselette," Malfoy drawled, snapping out of his shock. "This is the very worst torture you could possibly put me through. I mean, I'd have to make a godforsaken speech about how much I love Potter."

Hermione laughed at that, and even Harry managed a smile.

"In that case, Malfoy," Harry grinned. "I think you'll just have to be my Best Man."

Malfoy's mouth dropped open. "You've got to be kidding me, Potter! I have little to no desire with wanting to have to make a speech for you and your wife."

"I'm pretty sure you can make something up easy enough," Ginny said. "After all, you're a world-class liar."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. She wouldn't dare.

"Oh, I'm daring," Ginny laughed. Hermione joined her. "_You_ are going to be the Best Man, and there's nothing you can do about it."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Hmm... how many chapters did I do last time? Can't remember now...

* * *

Album link (Please remove the spaces to follow): ht tp:/ / s2 84 .photo bucket. com /albums/ll5/knm_208/Secrets%20And%20Lies/

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**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	29. Reborn

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Eight - Reborn**

"Hermione," Draco complained.

"Draco," Hermione whined back.

"No."

"Come on," she pleaded. "You have to."

"That _thing_ was designed for Weasel Bee. I'd rather bring my own than stoop that low."

Hermione stared at the blonde man in front of her in shock. "For your information, that _thing_ costs more than my dress!"

Draco chuckled, then had a sudden burst of inspiration. "Alright, Princess. How about I wear this _thing_, if I get to see you in your dress."

Hermione snorted. "Done deal."

"I'm not done yet."

Hermione waited, her hands on her hips and her eyes sparking like brown fire.

"I get to see you in it, now."

Hermione's eyes widened. "No way. Not fair."

Draco smirked at her. "Go on, Princess. Just think of it as… refitting, making sure it still fits… not too baggy, whichever."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And do I get your solemn promise that one, you're going to wear that tux to the wedding, and two, you won't laugh at me in my dress?"

"Hermione, why would I laugh at you in your dress?"

She didn't deign to answer, instead letting the glare force him to give her the promise. He noticed, and sighed.

"Fine, fine. Yes, I promise."

Hermione huffed as she made her way up the stairs. It was pure insanity that was making her do this.

Draco smiled to himself as his mission was accomplished. Without waiting for another second, he turned down the lights in the living room, and got the player ready to run. He spread some potpourri around the room, and lit some of the candles he had hidden.

By the time he had pushed the furniture to the wall, and spread the soft flower petals on the floor, he was ready. He donned on the tux as quickly as possible, and waited for his princess to come down.

He felt like he had the breath knocked out of him when Hermione made her way downstairs. She hadn't put her hair up or done any of the things she would have down if she knew what was waiting for her downstairs.

"Draco?" she asked suspiciously when she saw the dim light in the living room.

Once she reached the bottom of the steps, she froze, staring at the blonde man who was staring at her intently, giving Draco the chance to take her all in.

Her dress was purple satin, and it shimmered as it caught the soft glow of the candlelight. It was plain, and didn't have any design, and Draco thought that it was fitting; any sequins in it would have become mere distractions against the sparkle in her eyes. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, and fell to the floor. It was simple, yet elegant.

Hermione, too, was ogling the man across her. His straight blonde hair was not in the usual classic Malfoy gelled style in their younger years. He had cut the front bit to fall over his eyes, making him look slightly vulnerable. The tux was slightly longer than him, but it was still beautiful. His eyes were smouldering away in their grey grate.

As if on cue, the player began to sing out a song. The beginning notes began to play as Draco stepped up and held out his hand wordlessly. Hermione accepted it, and they began to sway gently to the song, staring into each other's eyes.

_Emily will find a better place to fall asleep_

_She belongs to fairy tales that I could never be_

_The future haunts with memories that I could never have_

_And hope is just a stranger wondering how it got so bad_

_I die each time you look away_

_My heart, my life will never be the same_

_This love will take my everything_

_One breath, one touch will be the end of me_

_You could be the final straw that brings me back to earth_

_Ever-waiting airports full of the love that you deserve_

_Wishing I could find a way to wash away the past_

_Knowing that my heart will break, but at least the pain will last_

_I die each time you look away_

_My heart, my life will never be the same_

_This love will take my everything_

_One breath, one touch will be the end of me_

_Emily will find a better place to fall asleep_

_Maybe she will save me in the oceans of her dream_

_And maybe someday love_

_Maybe someday love_

_Maybe someday love_

Without breaking their movements, not caring that the music had faded away, Draco and Hermione continued their dance, staring and wondering. They danced to the beat of their hearts.

When the next song came on, again, they flawlessly sped up, to dance with the faster song's beat.

They weren't in love, that was certain. There were feelings for each other, sure, but they weren't _in love_.

But was there a possibility of it?

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Love Song Requiem by Trading Yesterday**  
**

* * *

Album link (Please remove the spaces to follow): ht tp:/ / s2 84 .photo bucket. com /albums/ll5/knm_208/Secrets%20And%20Lies/

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**Review if you want to keep this story rolling.  
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	30. What Are We, Exactly?

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
**

**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine – What Are We, Exactly?**

"Hermione," Draco breathed. "Can I ask you something?"

They were still dancing, and had been so for the last twenty minutes or so, neither saying a word. Slowly, they had gotten closer, until Hermione's left side was touching Draco's right side, and she had leaned her head on his shoulder. Draco was staring down at the side of her face.

"Hmm," she hummed, and Draco almost shivered as the vibration of her voice reached his heart.

"What am I?"

Hermione stared up at his face, but didn't bother to remove her head from his shoulder. "You're Draco Malfoy, hopefully human, renowned Death Eater sent out to—"

Draco growled as she teased him. "Be serious, please."

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. "You be serious, Draco. Would I be in your arms right now if you were nothing to me?"

Draco hid a small smile. "Are you going to give me a straight answer?"

This time, Hermione did take her head off his shoulder to stare at him straight on his face. "What kind of straight answer do you want?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" he deadpanned.

"Is it really that obscure?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Straight answer, please."

"Fine. Yes."

The small smile appeared on his face. "Thank you," he whispered, brushing his lips lightly across her cheek.

"Just, please… don't mind me if…"

"Hermione?"

"… if I take things a little… you know, slow."

Draco hugged the fragile girl in his arms to his chest. "I understand, Hermione. I'll—"

His next words were interrupted by the song behind them. NSync's classic _This I Promise You_ played, Justin Timberlake's youthful voice filling the room.

"Well," Draco said sheepishly when the song ended, his feathers ruffled as he showed even a small part of his emotions. "That's a bit of an exaggeration in my case, but certainly quite true."

Hermione laughed lightly. "Thank you so much, Draco. For being here. With me. And helping me."

Draco smiled as he brushed his nose lightly down the side of her face. "It's my pleasure, princess."

The soft notes of a piano played in the background as they kissed. After a second or two, Hermione pulled away, and stared into his eyes again.

"And this is _my_ song for you," she said, recognising the notes.

Draco's eyes widened, as he too, recognised the song.

"Bit of an exaggeration, too," Hermione said weakly. "But hopefully, soon…"

She trailed away as Draco kissed her again. They both listened to the_ Everytime We Touch_ by Cascada, playing in the background.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

One more, because I'm feeling generous =]

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	31. Wedding Arrangements

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.  
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**_This story was inspired by _wishimight_'s Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank_ wishimight_ for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own._**

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**Chapter Thirty – Wedding Arrangements**

"Seriously, Draco," Hermione said, unimpressed. "We are shopping for a _wedding_."

Draco glanced up from the selection of bikes he had been staring at for the last five minutes. He hadn't been _seriously_ been considering buying them as a wedding present; he had just been mulling over how he had never ridden them as a child.

"Apologies," he muttered.

Hermione tutted, before pulling on his arm towards the direction of a kitchen supplies shop. Draco dug his heels in when he saw where they were going.

"Hermione? Seriously," he mimicked. "We are shopping for a _wedding_."

"That's my point," she said patiently, as if explaining to a three-year-old. "We're supposed to give them things helpful for their new home."

Draco rolled his grey eyes. "Potter's rich enough to buy his own damn pots, and Weaselette has enough pots at home. _No_."

"Ugh!" Hermione said, stomping her foot. "You are _such_ a spoilt _child_!"

Draco glared at her, affronted. "Who, me? You're the one stomping her foot when she doesn't get her way."

"Fine. How about I buy the kitchen supplies, and you can go roaming around your merry way and buy your own gifts?"

Draco grabbed her arms before she stomped her way into the kitchen supplies shop. "I have a better idea."

"Really?" Hermione snapped frostily. "Do tell."

Draco shrugged. "Just buy them gift cards."

Hermione stared at her, slowly deflating. "That's not a bad idea."

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Are you kidding me? Malfoys never have bad ideas."

Hermione swatted his arm lightly. "Well, let's go then."

Again, Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him in the direction of the information centre in the mall. During the five minute walk, Draco had a good thought about the girl who was dragging him.

She was still a force to be reckoned with, just like she was in their school years. He remembered her attempt to create a group in school against animal cruelty. It hadn't gone far, but she was persistent.

Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I said how much were you planning to get as a gift card?"

Draco shrugged. "What amounts do they come in?"

They reached the desk, and Hermione began reading out the denominations. "There are $20, $30, $50—"

"Princess," Draco interrupted, slightly smirking. "I know I'm a blonde, but I _can_ read."

Hermione pulled away from the sign to let Draco have a closer look. "Could've fooled me," she muttered under her breath.

When Draco stood up, he had an intense look on his face. He turned to Hermione, and said, "Hermione, can you check out some stuff over there for me for a sec?"

He pointed to a random shop, and felt, with some relief, that the shop was an ornamental shop. Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

"Just… Hermione, please. Go and pick out something from there. I'm just going to have a look here. And stay there. _Please_."

Hermione stared at him doubtfully. "Don't do anything drastic."

Draco didn't reply. Hermione followed his advice and entered the ornamental shop. She gazed around the shelves, trying to find something that would be suitable for a newly wedded couple.

Her eyes landed on a figurine of two faces; one was a man, one was a woman. The man had his lips on the woman's forehead, and there was a scroll underneath them, saying: "Til Death Do Us Part".

Hermione picked it up and cradled it in her arms as she looked around some more. When she spotted another ornament, she couldn't believe she was seeing it.

It was a figurine of a lion and a lioness; the lioness's head was under the lion's chin, and their tails were curled together. It was a rather big ornament—she had to leave the first figurine at the counter, then use both hands to pick up the two lions. Both Ginny and Harry were proud Gryffindors, and they were both courageous, loyal, and proud; traits of the leonine Gryffindors. The lion ornament was perfect for them.

She paid for them and had the cashier place them in two separate boxes and gift-wrap them with a large white silk bow on top. Ignoring Draco and his advice to stay at the one shop, she moved on to the next shop, which was a furniture shop.

There, she purchased a couch cover set—complete with pillow covers—in the Gryffindor colours. She also bought a dining set; porcelain with a red rose and a yellow rose intertwining on the left side.

She had momentarily forgotten about her shopping buddy until a hard hand slammed on her shoulder as she just finished paying for her goods. She almost screamed until she was forcibly wheeled around, and was faced with an angry Draco Malfoy.

"Jesus Christ, Draco," she said, a little breathless. "Don't _do_ that!"

"And _you_," he hissed. "Don't leave the shop I tell you to stay in. What if someone had come in and I didn't know? I chose that shop for a reason. I could see you and anyone who was going in and out. When I went in to find you, you were gone!"

Hermione started to get angry, too. "You don't control me!"

"Maybe not," he conceded angrily. "But I'm doing this to protect you. So you better _damn well_ listen to me."

"None of this would have happened if you weren't so damn secretive of what you were getting, and hadn't sent me away."

"It was meant to be a surprise," he almost yelled. "There, okay? _There._"

He shoved the gift card under her nose. Her eyes widened as they registered the denomination.

"Wow," she breathed. "This much for them? Don't you hate them?"

Draco calmed down a little as he led the way to the car. "I used to. But in a weird way, they've sort of accepted me as your friend. And I owe them that."

Hermione stared at Draco in disbelief. "So you're paying them back by purchasing them a $5000 gift card?"

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

One of my favourite lines: "Potter's rich enough to buy his own damn pots, and Weaselette has enough pots at home. _No_." Haha. Second only to: "Honestly, Draco, you just had to buy every single flavour of milk there was. Are you going to drink them all?" "The fridge was empty."

If people don't pay attention to Author's Notes, I might have to start putting them in the middle of the story, so watch out, you lot!

TO: "**lkirkire**" - This story is (unfortunately?) a Draco-centric story, so Blaise doesn't actually get a piece. Funnily enough, Blaise is thinking exactly the same as you are, which will be shown after the wedding, but for this story, Blaise doesn't end up with Hermione. Sorry!

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